NYPL RESEARCH LIBRARIES
3 3433 08254700 5
THE
3i AMBLES
OF A
BUTTERFLY.
BY
MARY BELSOX.
LONDON:
PRINTED RY AND FOR \V. DAFITO.V, Jl'N.
58, IJOLliORM-HlLL. *
is ia
'
THE XEW Y0RK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
i
AST035, LENOX AND
T1LDEX FO U NDA5AONS
R 1&44
THE RAMBLES
OF
A BUTTERFLY.
CHAP. I.
1 CANNOT doubt but that all my
youthful friends are well acquainted
with the beautiful insect called a
Butterfly ; yet, it is not improbable
that some are ignorant of the different
states of its existence : they have
viewed its rich tints with admiration,
chased it for such beauty, but never
imagined that the object of their pur-
suit '"was once an insignificant worm,
from which they would have turned
in disgust. Such, howavrr, is the
t^
3
, nor let us pass over the useful
lesson it conveys. Supposing our form
to be as unseemly as the butterfly's
in its early state, we have it in our
power to cultivate and adorn the mind
vnth beauties far superior to the gaudy
insect's, because lasting ; their charms
are perishable, and fade with the
passing hour : the charms of intellec-
tual improvement bloom through life
a constant source of gratification to
ourselves, and a certain passport to
the esteem of the wise and good.
How much more valuable this kind
of Approbation, than the every-day
praises bestowed on a pretty face :
^tho would not prefer being a rational
and amiable little boy or girl (though
plain in features,) to the gayest
attired butterfly that ever sported
amon^: the fairest flowers ?
o
The e"2s from which these insects
c/o
praceed, are hatched by the sun a
3
\vhose powerful rays, bursting their
prison walls, set at liberty the grovel-
ing and helpless worm. In this state
it -exhibits none of that activity so evi-
dent in the butterfly : its motion is a
slothful creeping pace ; itn food,
green leav-es. This change is suc-
ceeded by one still more inactive;
they fold themselves, as it were, into a
kind of case, or covering, and remahi
a certain time in a complete state of
torpidity. From this second confine-
ment they emerge, in all their beauty,
no longer the sluggish pedestrian of
the earth, but the gay and airy tra-
veller of the atmosphere. There are
day and night butterflies : we distin-
guish the first by the slight texture of
its wings, which resemble a thin silk
or gauze, well adapted to fly during
the heat of day. The night traveller
is more substantially clothed; Nature
has gi-ven it wings resembling velvet;
its little members are enveloped in a
kind of fur.
It was on a sultry morning in July,
soon after sun-rise, that one of this gay
tribe quitted the friendly shade of a
laurel, to sip " the sweets of early
dawn." His fickle nature led him
from flower to flower ; scarce had he
tasted the dew of one, when his roving
eye caught the full drop pending from
another ; and away he flew to enjoy it.
The garden, however, was not re-
markable for the variety of its produc-
tions ; it was a small piece of ground
attached to a neat white cottage,
o *
whose owners were too poor to pos-
sess a larger one, and too industrious
to spare much time in the cultivation
of what they had.
To the subject of our history, it
was every thing : he had seen no bet-
tor ; here he was born, and here he
expected to die ; 'tis true he felt the
sameness of the scene; but, uncon-
scious of the nature of his feelings, he
sought not to remedy the evil, endea-
vouring to make the most of his situa-
tion, nor leaving a flower wild, or,
otherwise, uritasted. Tired, at length,
of his own inconstancy, he fixed upon
a fragrant jasmine, that crept over
the front of the dwelling in wild luxu-
, o .
nance ; and so exquisite were its
sweets, that he resolved to make his
breakfast of them.
The opening of a casement, just
above his head, interrupted the meal ;
but, perceiving he was not noticed,
he continued his repast; during which,
his curiosity was particularly attracted
by the conversation of a chubby boy
anc) girl, who, standing at the open
window, were learning their lesson
from the same book. Though useless
himself, he could not forbear admiring
the attention they bestowed on the
B3
6
allotted task, questioning each other
with the greatest exactness, scarcely
allowing a minute for breakfast, which
~
they took as they stood ; it consisted
of a small basin of milk and some
coarse brown bread. Homely as such
fare would appear to many young
folks with whom I am acquainted,
these children, unaccustomed to luxu-
ries, ate and drank with the keenest
appetite, nor seemed to covet better.
A female voice called them just as
they had finished ; and our butterfly,
having nothing farther to divert him,
crept under a cluster of jasmine,
and sunk into a gentle slumber. How
loni; he continued thus is uncertain.
o
He was aroused suddenly by a rude
shock, that nearly threw 7 him from his
fragrant bed. Agitated and confused,
he flew to the opposite side of the gar-
den ; and, resting upon the broken
pales, surveyed, with fearful eyes,
the spot he had just quitted, to dis-
cover the cause of his alarm. It was,
in fact, no other than the hand of the
little girl, who. according to her
o * o
usual custom, had plucked a sprig off
the tree, to adorn her bosom, previous
to her going to school. Shortly after,
she came out of the cottage, accom-
panied by her brother, he carrying
his book, she her knitting; and, open
ing the gate, they proceeded up the
green lane in which the house stood.
~
Their winged admirer looked after
o
them with regret ; he had formed a
o *
most favourable opinion of .them, and
wished to be better acquainted with
them, and to see where they were then
iioing ; his wings expanded with his
wishes, he flew after them. The girl
stopped to add a hedge-flower to her
nosegay : he failed not to follow her
example ; he stopped, too; the flow-
ers were wild, but sweet, and, being
a novelty, highly gratified his epicu-
rism.
Keeping at a certain distance, he
followed the chearful pair until they
reached a very small hut, much infe-
rior to their own ; the door was open,
and disclosed to our astonished tra-
veller, from fifteen to twenty children,
of both sexes, seated in exact order,
upon low wooden benches. Near the
only window in the apartment, sat the
dame, or humble mistress of the se-
minary ; her shrill voice, and the buz
of her scholars, somewhat intimidated
and checked him. He looked round
for a shelter, but no dainty blossom
met his eye ; a few bushes covered
with dust were alone in view. Thus
circumstanced, he gladly availed him-
self of a pot of stone-crop, which
stood on the broad window-frame.;
here there was no temptation for the
appetite-, but the scene within attract-
ed his notice sufficiently to banish
self for a time. The variety of coun-
tenances, the studious attention of
some, the indolent attitudes of others,
and, above all, the proper conductof his
two little friends, amused and excited
the liveliest pleasure in the new visi-
tor. Nor did the dame escape his
observation ; her well-mended gown
of divers colours, clean check apron,
and lily-white cap, gave him a strong
idea of her cleanliness ; but there was
a certain severity in her features,
heightened, perhaps, by her uncouth
spectacles, that made him keep aloof
from her side of the window : his preju-
dice, however, was greatly lessened
when he heard her bestow unlimited
praises on his favorite Phebe and her
brother ; nay, he ventured to rest a
minute on the back of her chair:
while in this station, he discovered a
large beau- pot of fresh flowers, placed
10
in a broken red tea-pot, by way of
ornament to the smoke-coloured cbini-
tfey shelf. A butterfly of the ton
would have shuddered at the idea of
sipping the sweets of the loveliest
flowers if not elegantly arranged in a
china vase ; but our novice was totally
ignorant of fashionable life : the
O
dame's tea-pot disgusted not his deli-
cate feelings ; he flew immediately to
the luring spot, and skipped from bud
to flower with all the agility of nature.
His sportive movements at length
caught the eve of an idler, who di-
o +>
rectly communicated the intelligence
to another dunce : IC See what a beau-
tiful butterfly !' cried the latter to a
third ; and the news spread like
wild- fire.
Now, of all the dame's senses, that of
hearing was undoubtedly the keenest;
thegeneral murmur did not escape her
notice ; without raiding her head, she
11
lookeJ over her huge spectacles, with
an expression peculiar to herself; and
those who observed her were instantly
mute, and as quiet as mice. Unluckily,
all did not profit by the warning : a
bold adventurer darted forward, and
threw his Primer at the unconscious in-
sect; alas! with aim too sure, the stun-
ned victim fell senseless on the hearth.
This cruelty was beheld with just in-
dignation by the watchful preceptress,
who immediately summoned the offen-
der to come forth, in a tone of voice
never disobeyed. Cowardice and
cruelty usually go together; thus, he
who, for sport, had endeavoured to
kill a harmless butterfly, now shrank
from the just reproof of his mistress.
After chiding him for his inhumanity,
and inflicting some smart strokes of a
small switch upon his right hand, that
committed the deed, he was placed in
the middle of the room, as an object
of disgrace, with both hands tied he-
o *
hind his back, to prevent his using
them improperly again : the good lady
further observed, that idle people were
always doing mischief, for want of
better employment ; while the diligent
-seldom did wrong, because never at a
loss for something useful to fill up
time, without hurting themselves or
others : as an instance of the last, she
named Phebe and her brother Ned,
whose behaviour was not only a credit
to her school, but a pattern for every
child present.
The objects of her praise blushed
with genuine modesty, others with
shame, yet all appeared to feel the
justness of her commendation. She
then bade Ned take the butterfly
gently by the wing, and place it out-
side of the window, to try if the fresh
air might not revive suspended anima-
tion. Ned did so ; and, in a few
minutes, the ciame'5 humane intc::
trerc rewarded by seeing the
euted insect move and shake its wings,
though feebly. A quarter of an hour
had nearly elapsed before its strengtn
permitted flight; and then whither
was he to go ? his recollection of the
morning's route was too faint to ven-
ture on retracing it ; should he seek
a new road, what evils might he not
encounter,- how many enemies ? all
children were not Neds and Phebes :
his late narrow escape had proved this
truth ; and the idea of the past made
him shudder at the thought of remain-
ing where he was.
o
At this critical moment, two of his
species flew briskly across the road :
his spirits revived instantly ; in these,
thought he, I shall surely find friends.
d ' J *
and, stretching his feeble wings, fol-
lowed their course.
He was, however, ill calculated
for ihe pursuit: in a short time they
c
were completely out of sight, leaving
him on a bind,* where he was compelled
to rest. Fatigue and anxiety pro-
duced a drowsiness; and, creeping
into the heart of the flower, he com-
posed himself to slumber, and never
had he required it so much.
From this repose, he awoke much
refreshed ; leaving his couch, he
' O *
alighted on the grass, to enjoy the
cheering beams of the sun, now shin-
ing in his meridian glory. The bloom-
ing clover, which here and there had
escaped the mower's scythe, afforded
him a rich repast ; nay, he fancied it
equal to his favorite jasmine, and
\vas about making a vow never more
o
to seek food from a higher source,
when a rude clamour struck his ear;
a swarm of urchins leaped a stile into
the meadows, among whom he was at
no loss to discover his late enemy.
* A bind is the wild Convolvolus.
15
His relish for clover induced not a
moment's stay; his flight was imme-
diate, and so eager was he to escape,
that, regardless of distance, he con-
tinued his route for many minutes,
without stopping; but, at length,
tempted by the grateful odour of a
honey-suckle, whose fragrant flowers
hung negligently over a long wall, he
descended on the inner side. Attached
as he certainly was to the sweets of
life, the anticipated enjoyment of this
feast was quickly forgotten, from the
beauty of the scenery presented to his
view. He looked from one charming
o
object to another, only to increase his
admiration.
At the extremity of an extensive
and tastefully arranged garden, stood
a dwelling, now-a-days styled a cot-
tage, but how unlike the simple one
of his morning friends, or the crazy
hut of the school-mistress. The
c 2
shining white of its stone-dashed wall?
was agreeably relieved by the shade of
several stately elms ; labernums, blend-
ing their drooping branches, formed
an arched entrance to the house,
which was still farther sheltered by a
green viranda, that extended from
one extremity to the other; a verdant
lawn descended with a gentle slope to
the garden : this last was adorned
with all that elegance could suggest,
O Co '
or wealth procure.
Our amazed traveller knew not how
to decide, how to choose, where
every thing seemed perfect ; his eye
wandered over the luxuriant scene
without the power of fixing, till, per-
ceiving several of his kind baskino- in
o o
the broad bosom of the sunflower, he
joined the party, desirous of forming
an acquaintance, and also of profiting
ii- i
i)y their superior judgment.
He felt some degree of embarrass-
Hicnl *\ben listening to the conversa-
tion of these gay flutterers, who were
natives of the delicious spot, and,
consequently, well acquainted with all
its productions.
His confusion was quickly discerned,
and, perhaps, might have exposed
him to ridicule, had not the beautv
u>
of his form, and the glowing tints of
his spotted wings, announced his
descent: that he was of the peacock's-
eye species, could not be denied,
however rustic his manners; nor could
some of the group forbear shewing
cT 1 I O
certain traits of envy, highly gratifying
to his vanity, and renovating to h;s
drooping courage.
The instruction he had meant to
seek now appeared derogatory : he
determined to conceal his ignorance
as much as possible, and, by follow-
ing the example of others, to acquire
iashionable, if not useful, knowledge,
C 3
18
It was now, for the first time, he
heard condemned, as vulgar, those
flowers on which it had heen his ut-
most wishes lo feed ; the bare men-
tion of clover excited disgust in more
than one, while a slight commenda-
tion bestowed on the simple violet.
by an old butterfly, of the skull tribe,
caused a general laugh at the speaker's
expence. Truthr obliges us to confess
that such sentiments were perfectly in
unison with his own, but the fear of
ridicule checked his avowing as much,
and he readily entered into the false
opinion of his companions : thus,
even an insect shrank from sincerity,
/ '
because he preferred the approbation
of the weak and vain.
In the course of a few minutes, he
became tolerably sociable with two or
three, in whose company he per-
formed a tour nearly round the gar-
/ O
den, never failing to extol those sweeis
19
lio found were considered as liixuik
vet secretly preferring the cottage jas -
mine to many of them,
At sight of a delicate female the
whole party were in motion, nor was
our beau backward in the pursuit,
Never had he beheld so much loveli-
ness ; her spotless and transparent
wings rivalled the snow in whiteness ;
CJ
the easy graceful ness of her flight
added to her beauty. Our novice was
quickly enamoured. Her modesty
teemed unconscious of the power of
her charms ; and, \vhilc she flew from
flower to flower, he imagined it was to
avoid her followers, in this, how-
ever, he was deceived ; these frequent
rests were made but to lead them on;
nor did she fix till assured they were
rear enough to discern the action.
o
A moss rose-tree was her choice; the
colour of which, contrasted with her
oun exquisite white, dazzled the be-
holders. At length, he descended ;
but ventured not to approach the fair
nearer than three branches' distance.
His temerity was not checked,
though he had soon the satisfaction
of seeing his companions dismissed
with disdain. Upon this he advanced,
and was received with complacency,
and invited to the same flower on
\vhich she sported. Thus honoured,
thus distinguished, he forgot all past
perils; nay, he looked forward with
a feeling of certainty to spending his
life with the gentle partner of his love,
the rose-tree their home. But,
alas ! his vanity exceeded his know-
ledge of the world.
At the very moment when his glowing
imagination was picturing such scenes
of bliss, a gaudy rival approached,
whose large and glaring yellow wings
caught the keen eye of her ladyship.
A lew circuits round the bush com-
pletcd the conquest ; his boidnc a
increased, and he alighted upon the
very same stem, to the great indig-
nation of our enraged hero, who
Q
was preparing to repulse the intrusion,
when, in the twinkling of an eye, the
fop and fair coquette took wing and
fled together. Surprise and mortifi-
cation prevented a pursuit on his part,
while he secretly avowed never more
to attach himself to the white-winged
o
species.
Shame forbade his returning to the
sun-flower haunt, where he naturally
expected to encounter the banter of
his late associates. On quitting the
scene of degradation, he found him-
self directly opposite the house he had
admired at a distance: one of the
rooms opened with glass doors, on
the lawn ; curiosity induced him to
enter, and well was he repaid for
his trouble : the highly-finished furni-
tare, large mirrors, stands of flowers,
globes with gold fish, &c. over-
whelmed him with their splendour :
nor was this all ; from the frame of
a superb chimney- glass, he first be-
held his own personal charms, and,
if before he possessed the vanity as-
cribed to his species, trebly was it
increased by the unexpected disco-
very : again and again he expanded
bis exquisite wings, and, flying from
one end of the mirror to the other,
ceased not to admire the superior
beauty with which Nature had distin-
guished him from the vulgar of his
kind.
This frivolous employment was in-
terrupted by the entrance of two boys
and a girl, who, rushing suddenly
Into the room, seated themselves at
a table, over which was dispersed
books, maps, and other symbols of
instruction.
The dress and appearance of these
children, so different from those he
had ever seen, bespoke them of a
higher rank in life ; and, as external
show was just then high in his estima*
tion, he could apprehend no danger
from such pretty and well-dressed
individuals ; nor deemed it necessary
to change his situation farther than by
retiring to a basket of mi<niionctte,
fJ O
that, with other flowers, decorated a
green stand, before the fire-place.
In a short time, the youngest of
the boys (apparently six years of
age,) crept softly from his seat, and,
advancing towards the window, closed
it in a moment; then, clapping his
hands in triumph, exclaimed " so,
so, I have you at last, Mr. Butterfly 1"
and, with one sweep of his hand, he
secured the unsuspecting flutterer.
"See, Mary, (said he,) this is the
very butterfly that gave us such a
cha?e this morning. No, it is not, j:
he continued, (opening his hand, and
viewing the nearly senseless insect,
extended in the palm of it;) "no, it
is one a thousand times prettier ; look,
Arthur, did you ever see any thing so
beautiful?"
" Beautiful, indeed !'' replied Ar-
thur; " but your rough usage has
nearly stifled the poor %.' :
" Stifled !' : returned he, " why
you don't mean to say that a butterfly
can feel pain like us.' :
"I certainly do mean to say so, Bob;
and I am not a little surprised to hear
you make so foolish a remark,'
. " Cruel, as well as foolish, I think,'
observed their sister; "I know I
should be very sorry to squeeze an
harmless insect in that way ; for one
must be silly indeed not to know that
a little worm can feel pain as well as
men and women. "
25
" Well, then, I did not know it/'
said Robert; "so there is some ex-
cuse for my fault: but pray, Miss
Wiseacre, if you were so clever, why
did you join me to-day, when I was
trying to catch one ?'
: Because, sir, I wished to give it
my uncle Harvey, to put in his pretty
glass case ; not to hurt it, I assure
you, sir."
"Yet, Mary, (interrupted Arthur,)
the butterfly would have fared worse
with you than with Bob ; for, when
my uncle had received it, he would
have killed it immediately. Did you
not observe, when shewing us 'his
collection, the insects were all dead/
<; Yes, certainly I did, brother,
but then I thought he kept them all
carefully, and led them until they
..yew old and died. After that, you
know, there could be no cruelty
in shutting them up in a box,'
D
"Feed them till they die!" re*
peated Arthur; "no, no, child, that
would never suit his purpose ; he
kills them while their beauty is in its
prime, and before age or accident
should lessen it.' :
" How very very cruel !' : returned
Mary, shuddering ; u I think I shall
never again look at his glass-case with
pleasure.'
During this conversation, the near-
ly exhausted insect lay panting upon
the table, where Robert had dropped
it, when censured by his sister. He
evidently desired to retain it, but
Arthur combated his inclination, and|
at length, gently raising it by the
wing, carried it to the window, and
placed it on the frame near the
ground.
The sun and air quickly restored
animation : and, while the vouns
* ' A/ i3
scholars pursued their studies, it once
more took wing.
Flying leisurely down the slope, its
tickle nature was attracted by the
scent and glowing tints of a rose,
whose spreading bush skirted the
lawn. Scarcely was the discovery
made, ere a gentleman approached,
arid, taking a penknife from his poc-
ket, separated the identical flower from
the parent stem. Many roses yet
adorned the bush, but our epicure
butterfly coveted that one.
Casting a longing eve towards the
O o o J
stolen treasure, he suddenly deter-
mined to pursue the owner, in the
hope of snatching a taste of its sweets.
His ardour was a little checked, on
finding the gentleman enter the room
he had just quitted, and he hovered
a few minutes near the window. But
his fears entirely vanished when per-
ceiving the blushing flower deposited
p !3
rto
in a china jar, with a variety of others,
equally beautiful. Again he ventured
into the apartments, and flew boldly
to the tempting spot. He accom-
plished his wish in safety ; for the
children were too busily occupied
with their lessons, to spare him a
portion of their notice.
Had our butterfly possessed much
intellect, he had now ample opportu-
nity for improvement : Mary and her
brothers were clever children, and,
by perseverance and attention, well
repaid their father for his kindness in
instructing them. But idleness in
butterflies is excusable, and cannot
injure the human species. On the
contrary, in children it is a fault of
the greatest magnitude, leading to
the most distressing consequences,
and a constant source of anxiety to
those who have the misfortune to be
connected with them.
Our rover, though he did justice to
the good conduct of the interesting
O ' o
trio, felt no inclination to profit by
their example; and continued feasting
until the children concluded their
morning studies. He heard the father
praise their diligence, and witnessed
the blush of pleasure such praise
created.
" Pray, papa/' asked Robert, "can
you tell me why Charles Maynard,
who is not as old as my brother,
should know every thing as well as his
master?'
"I did not understand he was so
very clever ;" returned the gentleman,
smiling.
<k Clever, papa ! why he gets
through a dozen lessons in half an
hour : he has such a way of going
from one thing to another, without
trouble ; and reads, writes, draws
maps, and translates French fables 3
D 3
30
whilst we should be studying our geo
graphy only."
" That is doing a great deal, Ro-
bert, but learning little ; if he thus
hurry over all, he cannot pay proper
attention to any, and, of course, is
little the wiser for being taught. His
studies are like the pursuits of a but-
terfly, sipping at every flower with-
out deriving real benefit from one.' :
" You speak lightly of butterflies,
papa ; yet bees do the very same ;
and I have heard you praise their in-
dustry. '
"And deservedly so, my dear; the
bee sips not from a love of change
only, nor does she cull the sweets for
herself alone ; her employment is the
source of advantage to others. Ar-
o
thur has lately been reading an in-
teresting account of this industrious
insect, and can give you some useful
information on the subject."
31
" Yes, do, dear Arthur,' added
Mary ; " for I think their history
quite a curiosity. 5
Arthur readily assented, and gave
the following account of them :
"It is generally understood that
bees are subject to laws and govern-
ment. There is, in every hive, a
certain bee. of larger growth than the
o o
rest, who is evidently considered ihe
superior by the community.
"Naturalists are of opinion (hat this
head or monarch is a female, and
mother of all the hive. Those we
call drones (which are larger, and of
a darker colour than the common
bee,) are males: they number from
four to five hundred in a hive. It is
said, the queen has her apartment in
the upper part of the hive. She sel-
dom appears in public ; but, when
been, is attended by several large bees
(probably the drones), who follow
her with respect, or form a circle
round her, fluttering their wings, as
if rejoiced by her presence. She is
their chief concern in cases of danger ;
and, if deprived of her, by any mis-
fortune, they neglect all business and
either fly away at random, or languish
and die.
"The hive is a busy and curious
scene ; business is carried on with the
greatest diligence, and complete una-
nimity prevails throughout the whole
community ; they sympathize when in
danger, and fight for each other with
the utmost courage and resolution.
"The interest of the one is that of
the whole ; their store, the produce
of the industrious, is alike shared by
all. When alone, and distant froai
their companions, they are patient of
affront; but, when within reach of
assistance, will not be disturbed in
their labours, without resenting the
insult. Amfcl plenty, they are frugal
and abstemious : anioni*; themselves.
O '
strictly honest ; but apt to plunder
their neighbours, when opportunity
offers. This often produces wars and
tumults betwixt one hive and another.
They never suffer any thing offensive
to remain in the hive, uniting all their
' o
strength to remove the disagreeable
object.
" With a prudence not inferior t3
human foresight, they provide in sum-
mer for the necessities of winter.
They give no encouragement to idle-
ness ; but, as Spring advances, and
the young bees are able to provide
for themselves, the old ones send out
a colony, or swarm of them, to shift
for themselves, and find another ha-
bitation.
" In building their combs, they sepa-
rate into four bands ; the first of
which traverse the fields, to collect
materials for the structure, which
chiefly consists of the tine dust they
gather from flowers ; and which,
mixed with a certain gluey substance,
is made into wax. The second divi-
sion work upon these materials, and
form them into a rough sketch of the
size and partitions of the cells, which
are built hexagonal with the nicest
mathematical exactness."
" I suppose (observed Mary, to
her little brother,) you know that
hexagonal signifies six sides. 5:
Arthur continued :" The third
band examine and adjust the angles;
remove the superfluous wax ; and, in
short, complete the work. The fourth
class attend as labourers, during the
whole process ; and such is their dili-
gence, that the hive is fitted with
combs in a fortnight. Thus you see,
Robert, bees are far more valuable
than butterflies, and well deserve
praises their industry so generally
creates. I will take you some morn-
ing to see a glass hive, which, 1 am
assured, would much entertain you."
When Arthur had finished his little
history of this industrious insect, his
brother returned him thanks, observ-
ing, " he should never like butterflies
so well as bees, although they looked
so much handsomer.' j
u You are right, my dear, (returned
his father;) for there is no compari-
son in the worth of the two. I trust,
also, that you will imitate your new
favorite in your endeavours to be use-
ful, and pursue your duties with the
same activity."
At this moment, Mary's eye fixed
on our now-humble butterfly, who, in*
sensibly led to listen to the foregoing
conversation, felt truly abashed in
learning the general opinion of his
inutility, and the superior qualities
attached to the bee ; an insect he had
ever held in contempt.
" See, papa, (said Mary;) there is-
one of the idlers you mention !' :
" Yes, Mary, and a very handsome
one of its kind ; but, as he can only
please the eye, and we are not cruel
enough to seek his life, for the gratifi-
cation of looking; at his fine colours,
o
"sre care not how soon he goes : he is
welcome to our flowers, but not our
attention.' 1
Our hero certainly experienced no
desire to remain where he was so lit-
tle valued : he instantly spread his
wings, and again explored the garden.
Here, every thing offered pleasure ;
Lut, offended by his late reception, he
deigned not to continue near his tra-
o
ducers ; but, passing over the v/all,
opposite to where he first entered,
found himself on the high road. V/ilri
flowers alone presented themselves to
his view ; but these were sufficient ;
lie was not very hungry, -and his last
excursion had lessened his love of va-
riety : he began to wish himself in the
garden where he first drew breath,
and, had he known the way, would
assuredly have sought his native jes-
samine. Several children passed him
on the road, but no Phebe or Ned
were of the number ; and he was
now sufficiently acquainted with, the
dispositions of children, not to feel
tenacious of trusting himself within
their reach. " If they cannot make
any good use of me, (thought he,)
I will not become the sport of their
cruelty ; my vanity shall not mislead
me this time."
This idea had scarcely subsided,
when, as he was resting on the blos-
som of a hedge convolvulus, he was
suddenly seized by the rough lar^e
hand of a countryman, who had been
for some time watching his serial move-
ments, and exclaimed, on catching
his prize," So, so, I have you at
last, mister fine-wings ; my little ones
will thank me for this, I know.' The
trembling prisoner heard him in dis-
may ; for, he naturally guessed, the
parent who could take such a present
to his child, would think little of the
manner in which it was treated. Un-
pleasant was his situation, but still
more so the anticipation of future :
half stifled in the closed hand of the
unfeeling ploughman, he struggled
in vain to get free ; every attempt
but added to the rigour of his con-
finement, until, at length, death, in
any other shape, seemed preferable.
The loud buz of children announced
their journey's end ; two girls and a
boy ran to meet their father, enquiring
what he held so carefully concealed
from them. They were bid to guess>
and did so many times, unsuccess-
fully. The eldest girl, however, catch-
ing a glance of its wings, vociferated
the truth, and received the trembling
victim as a reward for her ingenuity.
Followed by the other two, she return-
ed to the house, and began rudely to
examine its various beauties ; she was
a selfish child, and in her endeavours
to keep all the sight to herself, nar-
rowly preserved its life ; as her impa-
tient brother ran from side to side,
now and then snatching at the poor
flutterer, while Nelly as eagerly drew
her hand away, to prevent his seeing
it. The youngest child now craved
her right to see the beautiful butterfly
" daddy brought home ;" and, oi>
being refused, set up a violent scream,
M'hich soon drew the attention of her
mother, whose pet she was ; and miss
Nelly was obliged to display her pme,
to please the baby ; who, not content
E 2
40
with viewing, would touch and play
with it in a way so rough, that more
than once it was in danger of bein<z
1 o O
demolished : the boy took his share
of tormenting, and, in order to teaze
Nelly, urged the little one to pull oft'
its wings.
This cruel deed had assuredly been
performed, had not the mother per-
suaded them it would be better to
keep the pretty creature under a glass,
.when they might look at it every da)',
without the fear of its flying away.
Thii bright idea was readily embraced,
and the hero of our story once more
escaped destruction.
We regret to say, humanity had
little share in the mother's decision ;
her children were froward, spoilt pots,
alive to their own gratification only ;
and she, who should have curbed their
every wish of doing wrong, was often
obliged to submit to their sallies of
passion, for the sake of what she
termed "peace and quietness.' Un-
fortunate children ! thus fatally in-
dulged, at the expense of future hap-
piness !
A broken wine-glass was placed
over the object of dispute, who
scarcely enjoyed the unexpected re-
prieve, while the cross, petulant
countenances of his young persecutors
assailed him in every direction, as he
glanced at them from his transparent
prison. With the power of torment-
ing, ceased their curiosity ; and, al-
though they were delighted to quarrel
with one another, as to the right of
pulling their prisoner to pieces, they
cared little to look at the same thing
over and over again, without touch-
ing it.
At this critical juncture, puss caught
a mouse in the barn ; at news of
which, one and all ran to the scene of
3
action, leaving our butterfly at leisure
v /
to reflect on the horrors of his situa-
tion.
All past perils appeared trifling,
when compared to the present : in
the school of the good dame, he had
found more than one protector ; in
the beautiful parlour at the cottage,
he had experienced much humanity ;
liltle Robert's rough usage had not
proceeded from want of feeling ; and
severely did he censure himself for
suffering disappointed vanity to lead
him from safety and plenty. Happily
for the bee, (sighed he, ) her beauty does
not attract the fickle notice of child-
hood ; her sting is a sufficient punish-
ment for the bold trespasser upon her
freedom ; her labours are attended
with liule danger, and are usually
O ' J
crowned with success ; my toils are
the sport of fancy and cruelty, and,
should I escape the ever threatening
5
43
evils, tend to no real good in the end ;
would I were a bee, an ant, or any
insect worth preserving. v
Thus meditated our hero in distress :
the lesson but too well applies to many
of our own species, who, depending
upon outward attraction, never take
into consideration the uselessness of
beauty, until convinced, by the neglect
of the wise and good, that personal
charms alone can never gain esteem
or respect. Gladly would the hum-
bled beauty in question have exchanged
forms with the heavy droning beetle
or insignificant moth, for whose flimsy
wings he would readily have bartered
Jiis own shining spotted ones.
A shout from the children created
new terror; and quickly a huge black
cat rushed into the room, pursued by
them, all eager to possess the dead
mouse he squeezed between his ja\\ r s,
He ran from corner to corner, assailed
with balls, sticks, and whatever came
in the way of his pursuers ; till, with
a sudden spring, he leaped upon the
table, where our butterfly was placed,
and, darting out of the window, over-
set the wine-glass, and freed his com-
panion in distress. The mischief was
quickly descried by Nelly, who shriek-
ing out, "Oh ! my butterfly, my but-
terfly !' ! mounted the table to prevent
its flight; but, notwithstanding her
activity, the object of it was yet more?
nimble, and, vaulting over her out-
stretched hands, passed the casement
again, to breathe the air of freedom.
On the thatched roof he took rest,
too far removed from danger to dread
pursuit ; and listened, with allowable
pleasure, to, the bewailings of his late
unfeeling mistress, who traversed the
garden round and round in search of
,45 .
her captive, threatening the cat with
her utmost vengeance for letting it
loose.
Puss had fled as high as one pair of
stairs into a large walnut-tree, re-
gardless of Nelly's commands to come
down and be beaten ; and, while she
enjoyed her meal, but encreased the
rage of the little tyrant. Her brother
now appeared with a hat full of
stones, with which he proposed pelt-
ing the cat, until they forced her
from her new abode. Nelly, pleased
with the proposal, joined in the cruel
attempt, but soon had reason to re-
pent her malice; for John, selecting
a large flinty stone, threw it with all
his force, it struck one of the lower
branches, and fell with violence on
his sister's head. The blow was in-
deed severe, but the action merited
the punishment; and, as the poor
butterfly viewed her bleeding and led
into the house, he experienced but
trifling pity for her, and still less for
her brother, who received from his
father a complete thrashing, for the
mischief he had caused.
It may be supposed the present
scene possessed no attraction to in-
duce the persecuted insect to remain
in its vicinity ; on the contrary, every
object excited terror ; and, weak as he
felt after so much ill-treatment, he
exerted himself to the utmost to fly
from all he had so lately witnessed.
His progress was slow, but every
movement of his wings gave him new
strength, and the hateful habitation
was soon out of sight.
After various determinations as to
the road he should take, he suddenly
lighted on some green paling, en-
closing a small, but neatly arranged,
garden. The appearance of the place
promising; but ; upon inspection^
47
the produce was rather useful than.
luxurious. All was quiet, however ;
and, a meal unmolested, he now con-
sidered a treat: a sweet- pea was his
choice, but not his alone, for, at the
moment he fixed on its blushing blos-
soms, a huge bee came humming
round the spot, and shortly took up
her quarters on the very same stem.
The high character he had so re-
cently heard of her, added to her
formidable sting, made him feel rather
shy of her acquaintance, and he
quickly retreated to a neighbouring
carnation, at the same time watching
the progress of the intruder's pur-
suits. A feeling strongly resembling
envy, pervaded his breast, as he re-
flected on the utility of her employ-
ment ; and he sincerely regretted that
equal power was not given to his
species. A cucumber glass at this
moment raised his drooping pride, by
4-S
reflecting his handsome form ; but his
vanity was certainly not so keen as
in the morning; and, after a short
inspection of his beauty, he sought
other objects. A' house, nearly con-
cealed by lofty trees, next drew his
attention ; and, although it was far
from his intention to enter the duell-
ing of man, he was led towards it by
the soothing voice of childhood,
tones so mild, that he could not be-
lieve danger existed within sound of
it. In a bed-room, (whose half-closed
shutters admitted a partial light,) he
discovered the fair speaker, an in-
teresting little girl, who, leaning over
the pillow of a sick brother, endea-
voured to amuse and console him ;
ber kindness seemed to rouse the
young invalid, who repeatedly, though
in a languid voice, declared his Susan
was the best nurse in the world.
* 4 I am glad you think so, my dear
4.9
Charles, (said Susan;) because it is-
my wish to please you ; and I well re-
member how good you were to me
when I had the measles. 5
Here Susan kissed his pale cheek,
and dropped the tear of recollection.
Charles too seemed affected, and
returned her caresses with equal
warmth.
" Will you read tome, Susan?'
(asked he,)
"Willingly, my dear brother ; but
first let me give you the medicine
Jane left in my care."
Charles shook his head in disap-
probation, and confessed he did not
like taking physic.
" Nor da I, (returned Susan;)
but, however disagreeable it may be,
I think pain is a great deal worse:;
and, when we know a little Or this
bad tasting stuff will cure us, it
would surety be folly to sutler illness,
rather than take what is necessary to
prevent it."
Charles was silent ; and his kind
nurse arose to prepare the dreaded
dose.
When she approached the bed-side,
with the glass of medicine in her
hand, he shrank back. Susan looked
disappointed.
" What shall I say to mamma when
she returns ? she supposes I am filling
her place, and tending you as she
would do if at home. I never saw
you refuse physic when she offered it ;
and I hoped you loved me too well
to do so when I became your nurse :
but, perhaps, I do not understand
how to make you happy, or give you
what is proper, as 1 flattered myself
I did. Tell me, dear Charles, what
I have done that does not please
you."
" Oh ! you never do wrong, Susan ;
it is not with you I am displeased ;
only, as I said before, I cannot bear
to take physic. >:
" Then you will not take it, bro-
ther; shall I do so, in your stead?"
(Charles smiled.) " Why, you
don't want it ; you are very well, you
know, and I dare say it would do you
more harm than good.
"Perhaps so; but no matter,-
you will not get well, and may wish
me to be ill, to keep you company."
" No, that I am sure I do not,
(returned he;) I would sooner be ill
a hundred times, than your head
should ache once : so, come, mistress
nurse, bring your nasty physic, and
let me swallow it quietly."
Susan was not long in performing
this part of her duty ; and, although
Charles still asserted it was very dis-
agreeable stuff, he emptied the glass
in a minute. His thoughtful nurse
J 2
had a lump of sugar at hand, and
soon made him smilingly confess the
task he had performed was trifling
compared to anticipation.
Susan now settled his pillow, and
smoothed the bed-clothes to his satis-
faction ; and, then going to a book-
shelf, selected a volume, such as she
guessed would please him; and, seating
herself by the bed-side, commenced
the following story:
THE PATCHED COAT.
It was Sunday, the bells of the
village church rang their usual peal
for morning Prayer. Young and old
heard the summons, and, dressed in
their neatest array, hastened to join
in thanksgiving and supplication.
The appearance of the villagers
was more than commonly striking.
for the day was Easter Sunday, and
the youthful inhabitants generally put
on some new garb on this day. The
industrious parent often sacrificed
self-comfort to procure an article of
dress for their offspring. It was not
a desire for finery, but a proper re-
gard to decency, respect, and grati-
tude for the blessing this day had
procured.
One family had ever been remark-
able for the neatness of their clothing,
and. until this year, considered an
V
example to the rest of the village,
not only in outward appearance, but
for general good conduct. But, alas !
adversity had changed their prospects,
and their dress likewise.
The father, an industrious farmer,
by a series of misfortunes, had been
obliged to quit his farm, and submit
to the daily fatigues of a labourer.
His wife, equally deserving, and once
v 3
the active partner of his exertions ?
lost her life in attending two children
in a dangerous fever, from which they
recovered, though she fell a sacrifice.
One short year deprived him of these
comforts, and reduced him from com-
parative affluence to poverty: but he
was a good and religious man, bore
his sorrows with fortitude, and en-
deavoured to make his children do
Yhe same. His greatest trouble arose
from the infirmity of a little girl,
about eight vears of a^e, born deaf
O */ O '
and dumb : her affliction endeared
her to the whole family, and her
gentle disposition well repaid their
care; but her favourite brother, two
years older than herself, was her
principal companion and helpmate.
Joe possessed one of the best
hearts in the world ; his disposition
was cheerful and conciliating, the
ause of pleasure to others, and never
55
so happy as when so employed. His
sister Fanny was his idol ; he was
ever inventing something to amuse
her, taking her pleasant walks, or
culling the best flowers, nuts, or ripest
blackberries, for his pet. His exer-
tions were always crowned with suc-
cess; for Fanny was pleased with all
be did, and the time he spent at
school seemed the most irksome of
her life; while his presence instantly
created the smile ot delight, and she
M ould throw her arms round his neck,
and weep with joy on his return.
Poor Joe's coat was not so lasting
as his spirits and good temper; his
sister Martha had mended it over
and over again; and, at length, in
defiance of her own wish, and Joe's
entreaties for the contrary, had been
obliged to patch it with another
colour.
^ I don't see people wear blue
56
coats, with brown patches," said Joe,
examining his sister's workmanship.
" Nor I, brother; but any colour
is better than a hole: I am sure you
would not like to go in rags.' 1
" No, certainly, (replied he;) but
to-morrow is Easter Sunday, and
every one will have a new coat, while
I wear an old one of different co-
lours.' 1
" True, Joe, but then every-body
is not so poor as we ; in better days
we did not need such contrivances;
when father had the power, he always
gave his children the best he was able
to earn : his misfortunes are not of
his own seeking ; and, while we see
him wear an old jacket, like his pre-
sent one, I think the least we can do
is to be content with our own."
" Oh ! I know father can't help it,
(said Joe;) and I would not say a
word to vex him, for twenty shillings;
57 -','
but 1 do wish, Martha, that "my co-di
had lasted whole until after to-mor-
row.'
Martha smilingly added, "Ay, and
.until this time next year, for all our
,sakes.' :
Joe smiled too,, owned it was silly
to mind a patched coat, and went
whistling away, to pick cowslips for
little Fanny.
"I think (said Joe, on Easter Sun-
day,) -that I will go to church by the
road-way, the distance is much the
same.
' Not much difference, I believe,
(answered his father;) but methinks,
boy, the fields would be more plea-
sant; and, beside, you would join
many of your companions by going
the latter way.' :
" I don't much care for company,
to-day, J: observed Joe, looking at
the brown patch ou his elbow.
,58
Why not to-day, my dear ? (re-
turned his father, noticing his son's
glance;) I don't see why that patch
should lower you in the eyes of your
playfellows ; they all know I gave you
a better when I had the power : go,
boy, go to church the old way, the
fields will look just as green as ever ;
and, be assured, your prayers will be
acceptable in an old coat as well as a
new one. I never knew dress make
the heart better or mend the temper:
so the conscience be whole, no matter
how many holes in the garb."
Poor Joe felt ashamed, not of his
coat, but of himself ; he tried to speak
his feelings, but tears prevented him :
kissing his father hastily, he snatched
up the Prayer-book, ran through the
garden, and was over, the first stile in
five minutes.
" How do you do, Joe? (exclaimed
two boys, in a breath ) are you not
going to church, and this Easter Sun-
day?"^
"Yes, to be sure I am," answered
he, a little confused.
His young companions exchanged
looks, and immediately fixed their
eyes on the brown patch.
" What do you think of my coat?
(asked the elder one;) and my hat
and waistcoat?' added the younger.
" They are very good, very pretty,*'
replied Joe.
" Don't you wish you had such ?"
enquired the last speaker.
"No- , yes, (answered he;) be-
cause, then father would be better in
the world than he is now ; otherwise,
I don't care much for new coats."
" Then, you are not ashamed of
that patch on your elbow ?"
6C Ashamed ! why should I be
ashamed? It is no crime to wear an
old coat: as father says, new clothes
neither make us better nor wiser.' 1
" But you look so shabby, Joe; I
am sure I should blush to go to
church in such a coat as that; I dare
say every one will stare at you : you :
will be the only boy who has not new
clothes."
' I cannot help that, (replied Joe ;)
1 hope I shall not be the greatest
dunce or the worst- tempered. 7:
" No fear of that, (cried a good-
natured, rosy, girl, tapping him upon
the shoulder:) what makes you look
so serious, Joe? ?
" It is enough to make him look
serious, (said James Evans, the eldest
boy;) here, he is going to church on
Easter Sunday in that old patched
coat, and we, and every-body else,
have nice new ones.' 1
*' Well, and will your nice new
coat ojjve you nice new \vuvs of saying
fJ *r v J
your lessons to-morrow? Joe need
not mind his brown patch, while he
can read better than all the boys in
the village : I would sooner wear his
old coat to-day, than your crying
faces to-morrow, when you go to
school (as you always do,) without
learning three words of your task."
T "
James muttered something about
being as clever as Joe, and that Han-
nah had no business with his lessons;
but, perceiving the arch girl was half-
inclined to laugh at him, and well
knowing how much Joe was his supe-
rior in learning, he slunk behind with
his brother, and left his companions
to proceed alone.
Joe felt relieved by their absence ;
and, although grateful for Hannah's
interference, could not help watching,
to discover if she noticed the brown
patch. Hannah, however, was a <riri
uf too much discernment to v (ue
G
people for their dress ; and, as she
was well acquainted with Joe's good
qualities, never thought of the colour
of his coat.
At the church-door they parted ;
Joe took his usual seat near the
clerk's desk ; and, notwithstanding, he
saw many eyes fixed upon his brown
patch, that should have been directed
to their books, he never blushed bat
once, and that was when a gentleman
in the best pew, looked earnestly at
him, and appeared to examine him
from head to foot. " He does not
know any harm of me," thought Joe,
and he again turned to his Prayer-
book, forgetting every thing but the
place he was in, and for what pur-
pose he came there.
When the service concluded, Joe
was surrounded by his young ac-
quaintances, who, while they asked
trifling question, or made some
frivolous observations, evinced by
their eyes that his coat alone was the
object of their attention. His glow-
ing cheek betrayed him not quite at
ease, but his father's words still
dwelled upon his memory, and he
determined to conquer the silly pride
he felt arising.
At this moment, the gentleman who
had before noticed him, (and who
was Lord of the Manor,) approached
with the parson of the parish. The
little groupe gave way, each making a
bow or curtsy, all eager to catch the
eye of the squire, who graciously
nodded to them; but, pointing to
Joe, enquired who the little boy in
the patched coat belonged to.
Poor Joe once more looked at the
brown patch, nor was he the only
one who did so.
" He is the son of Farmer Hast-
ings, (replied the parson ;) one of
G, 2
ill
the best children in the village, and
well worthy so good a father. ' :
" Farmer Hastings ! (repeated the
gentleman,) I remember him well ;
but I fear, from the appearance of
his son, times are not so well with
him as heretofore."
The rector assented to this ; and,
as they walked through the church-
yard, gave a slight detail of the honest
J "f O t5
farmer's misfortunes.
Joe heard enough to make him
proud of his father, and regardless of
his patched coat.
On reaching the turn-stile, Joe
was about to proceed his usual way ;
when Mr. Martin, the rector, called
him back, and presented him by name
to the Squire. " My good little fel-
low, (said the latter,) 1 have taken a
great liking to patched coat of
yours, which, I am told, is worn by
an excellent boy : you, however, may
fy- g;ooeL little fellow, I tare taken, a
to that patched, coat of yours, widcli, I am -told.,
is TVOTIL lyy an excellent Ijoy.
RamAlej or'a. Jlutterrlv; Sft Pane 64 .
Xonitm. TfiOtam Dcatan
i'- 2J32S.
not be so partial to it, so take this,
(he added, putting a bank-note in his
hand ;) and let me see you next Sun-
day in a new one, but retaining your
present good character. ' :
Hardly could Joe believe his senses
as he viewed his newly-gotten trea-
sure. His thanks were warm, but
brief; for every moment seemed an
hour, until he had imparted his good
fortune to those he so dearly loved.
In vain, James Evans, and many
others, shouted after him, to learn
what the gentleman had given ; smiles
and nods were his only answers.
Swift as the wind, he crossed the
fields, and reached home, just as
Martha was taking the pudding out
of the pot.
"Just in time, my boy, (said his
father;) here is your favourite pud-
ding, all smoking, and ready for
you.' 3
66
u O, I can't eat pu tiding, or any
ihing else, just now, (returned Joe,
panting;) see, father see, Martha
and all of ye see, what the squire has
just given me, because my coat was
patched with brown.'
Joe then related particulars, clear
as his agitated spirits would allow ;
produced his One Pound Note, and,
kissing Martha, declared he liked her
mended coats better than new ones.
The farmer, smiling, congratulated
him on his good-luck, and observed,
that a fair name was better than fine
cloathes, as the event of the morning,
had proved.
Joe could eat little dinner for talk--
ing of the squire, and his new coat ;
until, perceiving his father unusually
thoughtful, he forgot all his fine pro-
jects, and enquired, with real anx-
iety, what he was thinking about ?
I will tell you, my dear, (replied
67
he ;) during the time you were at
church, neighbour Simms called to
tell me, that a great doctor was come
to Ludlow, famous for curing the deaf
and dumb ; now, I have more than
once been told that our sweet Fanny
might be cured, if I had proper ad-
vice.'
"Well, father, (interrupted Joe, )
and you will now, surely ; oh, what
luck that would be !' :
" It would, Joe, be the greatest
happiness of my life ; but then Lud-
low is thirty-six miles off, and the ex-
pence of such a journey is more than
1 am worth in the world.'
Joe's color rose to crimson, joy
sparkled in his blue eye, he clasped
his hands in extasv. " Oh, father,
.' ' *
my money, my bank-note, would per-
haps"
" Yes, child, that is what I am
thinking of; but then, Joe, the new
coat for next Sunday, and that old
one, with the ugly brown patch, my
boy!"
" But, (exclaimed Joe, in tearful
rapture,) my own Fanny to hear and
speak ; to call me her dear brother ;
to hear me tell her how much 1 love
her ; understand all I could say to
her ! ah, father, it would be too
much !" Here, overcome by his
feelings, Joe hid his face on his fathers
shoulder, and wept aloud. The good
farmer, while he pressed him to his
heart, gave loose to similar feelings ;
and poor Fanny, the unconscious
cause of them, ran to share the grief
she witnessed, without knowing why.
Joe raised his head, looked in her
intelligent face, and almost fancied her
cure already began. In the most af-
fectionate manner she took his hand ;
and, in a kind of mournful tone, en-
deavoured to console him. Joe put
his arms round her neck, kissed her
again and a;ain. uttering a thousand
O O ' O
expressions of pleasure : she smiled
to observe, though she understood
him not.
" When will you set off, father ?'
(enquired Joe.)
" To-morrow morning, by the heavy
coach, if the passengers be not too
many ; it will pass here about five
o'clock, and I doubt not we shall all
be up early enough to secure a seat on
the top for my poor girl and myself. ' :
" I don't think I shall s;o to bed to-
o
night, (said Joe;) for, perhaps, we
might over-sleep ourselves; and really I
feel too happy to sleep much no\v, but
I might set heavy towards morning.'
O O ./
' Never fear, (returned his fa-
ther;) we shall all be up in time ; and
I advise you to go to bed earlier than
usual, instead of sitting up all night;
70
for you will have more to do to-morrow ?
on account of my absence."
Joe readily agreed to change his
plan, and retired soon after sun-set,
happy as virtue and innocence could
make him.
My readers will not be surprised to
learn he was the first stirring in the
cottage on the morrow ; helped Mar-
tha to prepare breakfast, cleaned Fan-
ny's Sunday shoes, and, without being
told, ran half a mile to borrow dame
Hudson's big shawl, to wrap round
his darling, lest the dew should give
her cold, for it was early in April.
The farmer witnessed these affec-
tionate attentions with a pleasure
none but parents can feel ; and, as he
placed the bank-note in an old leather
purse, prayed Heaven to bless his
generous and dutiful boy.
Martha, her two youngest brothers,
&nd Joe, walked to the end of the
lane, to see the travellers depart ; Joe
continued kissing his hand while the
coach was in sight ; his heart beat
strong with hope, though Martha
more than once suggested the proba-
bility of their being disappointed.
Joe had double work to do on this
day ; vet, notwithstanding his constant
occupation, the time hung heavy, and
he longed for night, to forget in sleep
the doubts and fears to which sus-
pence had given birth. He had, at
first, imagined that a single day would
perfect Fanny's cure ; and, when un-
deceived by Martha, experienced sad
mortitication : he learnt with dismay,
that, should the doctor even prove
successful, weeks, months, nay years,
might elapse ere their wishes were
realized.
< It is a very long while to wait for
such happiness, (said he;) but, come
when it may, it will be the
joy of my life."
On the following day, at noon, the
good man returned with his charge,
Joe was hard at work when he heard
the distant sound of coach-wheels;
throwing down the spade, with which
he had been digging the field, he has-
tened up the lane, shouting to Martha
all the way.
/
The moment he discovered the dear
objects of his search, he stopped, and
fixed his eves on the countenance of
j
his father, the expression of which
could not be mistaken : "all is right ;"
(thought Joe,) while his heart palpi-
tated as if it would burst through his
breast. Fanny looked pale from fa-
tigue, but her cheeks reddened with
delight when she perceived who came
to meet her.
His clamorous joy had brought the
rest of tiic family to the garden, and
pushed forward to hear the. first
news ; but Joe suggested their assem-
bling round the dinner-tahle, before
his father began the interesting detail ;
for Fanny had already warned him of
her hunger.
O
The meal was speedily concluded ;
and their delighted parent then in-
formed them that the doctor was of
opinion she would recover both her
hearing and speech ; but time only
could evince the wished-for success,
and the distance from Lucllow was
too o'reat to allow of so constant an
o
attendance as was necessary.
mf
" I Irave no more pound-notes,
I sighed Joe;) I wish the Squire had
given two instead of one.'
u Then you would have had a new
coat into the bargain ;" (observed
Martha, looking significantly.)
"A new coat! (answered Joe,
somewhat indismantlv, ) No, lam not
j '
a
so selfish as to wish for more money
oa that account : I meant, it would
have paid father's journey another
time ; and two trials must be better
than one.' :
Martha, taking him affectionately
by the hand, owned her belief of his
good intentions ; and told him, if he
would assist her in spinning, during
the next week, she doubted not earn-
ing sufficient for a second journey.
Three weeks passed away in anxious
expectation ; Farmer Hastings had
been several times to Ludlow, little
Fanny underwent an operation, which
produced a slight sense of hearing,
and the joy of the whole family was
sincere as ardent.
On the fourth Sunday, Joe went to
church in his old jacket ; a second
patch was no improvement to its ap-
pearance ; but he saw not its defects,
he only remembered it had been the
means of sending Fanny to Ludlow,
and, moreover, she had given proofs
of hearing the church bells that morn-
ing ; their sound now seemed the
sweetest music to his ears, his spi-
rits became elated as he listened to
them, lie was stripping a bunch of
May from the hedge, to place in his
breast, when he heard his name pro-
nounced, in a tone of surprise ; he
raised his head, and beheld the squire,
his eyes steadily fixed on his party-
coloured iacket. Joe instantly un-
V *-<
derstood his thoughts, but had not
the immediate power of speaking; his
eye fell on the same object, and
glanced from the patch to the squire
alternately.
His confused manner, and blushing
cheeksj gave the squire an idea that
all was not right ; and he, rather
abruptly, enquired why he again saw
him in his old coat ?
11 2
" Because, sir because I thought
it best kindest, to spend your money
an something else that 1 could not
help wanting, much more than a ne\v
coat."
" I think you could not want any
thing so necessary, (returned the
squire ;) you have a good father, who
feeds and maintains you, and I hope
you are too good a boy to throw away
such a sum on trifles, or in purchasing
anything without your father's know-
ledge."
" O, no; indeed, sir, that would be
very wicked ; I have certainly spent
the note you were so kind as to give
me, but I am sure, that is, I think,
you would not say I had done wrong,.
if you knew all."
" Well then, tell me all ; I am in-
clined to think well of you, from your
seeming good conduct, and the good
character parson Martin gives
77
but I do not like concealment : if the
money has been disposed of properly,
you need not be ashamed to own the
manner of laying it out/
So Joe thought ; but his natural
modesty made him averse to disclosing
an action in which he was the prin-
cipal person concerned ; and, in pro-
portion as the squire pressed for an
explanation, his reluctance increased :
at length he stammered out the truth,
attributing the whole to his father's
suggestion ; but his gratified auditor
readily understood the merit of the
action was entirely his own, and be-
stowed the warmest commendations
on his dutiful conduct ; he added,
" I shall call on your father this even-
ing, and talk to him on the subject. >;
The naturally sanguine disposition
of our rustic hero attached much
good fortune to this promised visit,
ii ' 3 ,
78
and he hastened to impart his hopes.
to his parent and sister.
Joe thought evening would never
\ x t?
arrive ; it did, however, and with it
came the squire and his lady.
The neatness so evident in the far-
mer's cottage and family, made a most
favourable impression upon his guests,
who condescendingly noticed all they
saw, and enquired minutely into their
tenant's affairs. The squire heard,
with real pleasure, a confirmation of
Joe's good qualities; and, at the con-
clusion of the father's recital of his
generous offer of the bank-note, took
him by the hand, and promised to be-
friend him through life*
" Then, perhaps, (exclaimed Joe,
joyfully,) I shall be able to earn
enough to get dear Fanny quite
cured. 51
;t We shall not wait your future
exertions, my worthy boy, (answered
the squire ;) Fanny has found a more
able, though not a better, friend in
this lady, who has come here pur-
posely to offer her services, on her
account solelv.
j
Yes, (said the lady, smiling, and
drawing the interesting little girl to-
wards her,) I mean to take your fa-
vourite under my particular care ; I
shall send her to Ludlow, at my own
expense, to reside with Doctor Alason,
who has several other unfortunate
children under his care ; and 1 doubt
not, from your father's favourable re-
port, she will return as well as we could
hope her to be.' .
Poor Joe could only turn up his
hands and eyes in wonder, at such
goodness ; while his father and Mar-
O '
tha returned more audible thanks.
A small but compact farm was of-
fered tdiMicr Hastings, at a rent not
80
exceeding his present humble one ;
and the squire's lady assured Martha
she would furnish her with many com-
forts and necessaries for housekeep -
ing, such as they had been deprived
of, from change of fortune.
' O
They at length quitted the cottage,
overwhelmed with the gratitude of its
o
worthy inhabitants, whose coming
prosperity soon spread through the
village, to the mutual pleasure of all ;
for farmer Hastings w ? as universally
respected and beloved.
In the course of the following week,
~ *
little Fanny was completely equipped
for her new residence. The parting
between her and Joe was truly affect-
ing; though the latter, convinced of
its necessity, endeavoured to suppress-
his feelings, and to make her compre-
hend it was for the best. Never had
Joe shed so manv tears as on the
/
morning of her departure \ it seemed
81
he lost halt' himself, in losing his dar-
ling, and the poor little girl suffered
still more, from her ignorance of all
which occasioned the separation.
As the summer advanced, happiness
once more beamed upon this worthy
family. They had removed to the
new farm ; the bountiful hand of
their landlord rendered every thing
complete ; Martha's dairy and Joe's
garden were the admiration of the
village ; every Saturday, Joe was al-
lowed to accompany the squire's
housekeeper, in a chaise-cart, to Lud-
low, and had the inexpressible pleasure
of seeing his sister, who rapidly reco-
vered, under the skilful management
of Doctor Mason. This weekly ho^
liday was procured by extra labour
on other days, but the toil was a
pleasure to our tender-hearted Joe.
As he had been the chief object of
her love, in the days of affliction, <>
82
he became the dearest one as she
gained sense, and power of expressing
the same. Every month, he had
some instance to relate of her im-
provement in speech ; and, when she
first addressed him, (though imper-
fectly,) as "dear Joe,' his heart
seemed too full of delight to be borne,
and he threw himself on her bosora
in an agony of joy.
As he reached the farm, on this me-
morable evening, he exclaimed, "Oh,
my dear father, oh, Martha, she said
would you believe it ? she said '
Here, his throat swelled, and he
could say no more.
" Who do you mean, my child ? M
asked his father, noticing his agita-
tion with anxiety.
"Mean ! why I mean Fanny, our
Fanny, my own Fanny ; yes, dear
father, she spoke to me, called me
dear Joe : such sweet words, I never
83
heard in my life ; they have sounded
in my ears all the way home ; every
tree, every bush, seemed to repeat
* dear Joe ;' I shall never think of
any other words as long as I live."
"\es, my dear boy, you must
think of, and repeat, other words
words of grateful praise to the Mer-
O 1
ciful Power who has restored our dear
Fanny, and loaded us with benefits ;
nor let us forget his agents in the
good work, whose charity, guided by
His Ail-Powerful Hand, has brought
things to this happy conclusion. "
" O, I shall never forget them or
their goodness, (returned the tearful
boy ;) and, as to thanking God for all
he has done for us, I think it would
be almost impossible, for he sends
new happiness every day ; but indeed
I do think of him, and say my prayers
with all rny heart, because i always
fancy he is listening to me, and it
makes my heart feel light ; especially
when I have been to see clear Fanny,
and find her better, for I am sure it
must be His Power that makes her
so.'
"I believe you, my child, (said far-
mer Hastings ;) and may His Good-
ness ever inspire you with the same
confidence.' 1
Autumn passed laboriously, but
happily ; every thing prospered, all
their efforts succeeded ; but Winter
was destined to complete their felicity ;
little Fanny came to spend a fortnight
at the farm, remembered each indivi
dual, and the scene of her early ha
bits, called her brothers and sister by-
name, heard most of what was said
to her, and listened with rapture to
Joe's attempt to entertain her with
his fife, which the squire's butler had
given him.
Joe was half wild with pleasure ;
he escorted her throughout the vjj-*
la^e, busied himself in forming ne\v
CJ c>
plans of amusement, and read him-
self hoarse, to divert her, with lled-
RidJDg-Hood, Mother-Goose, and
o *
every book he possessed, or could
borrow from his young companions.
Joe had long since owned a new
coat; likewise a jacket for days of
labour ; but he yet retained the
patched one, which he esteemed a
relic, and termed it "the lucky jae^-
ket.' On the day of Fanny's return,
(the jubilee of his life, ) he appeared
in the patched garb at dinner. On
Martha's joking him, he observed,
" No matter ; I would not affront
my brown patch, by letting it lie un-
noticed in the old chest, on such a day
as this, when I remember that all our
good fortune comes from its colour.
T
Ah, Martha, I don't forgot old friends;
and. although 1 certainly like to wear
' CJ /
I
my new coat best and go to church like
other boys of the village, yet I have a
great respect for this workmanship of
yours.''
" Blue jackets and brown patches
for ever! blue jackets and brown
patches for ever !"' repeated the
laughing Fanny ; not quite perfect,
indeed, but intelligibly enough to be
understood by all.
" I will wear this dear patch all the
rest of my life ;" sobbed Joe, (as he
kissed her round blushing cheek.)
<fc Wear the same heart, my noble
boy, (said his father,) and you must
be happy/'-
" Thus ends my story, (said Susan,
closing the book,) and I hope it has
entertained you ?'
<A O, very much indeed, (returned
Charles;) 1 am quite delighted with/
Joe ; and, as to poor little Fanny,
do you know I could not help crying,
when you described her misfortunes/'
" My eyes don't feel quite right,
(observed Susan,) but I believe you
are as much the cause as poor Fanny ;
for, while I read of J oe's affectionate
conduct towards her, I could not but
fancy, that you would just behave as
kind to me, had I been as unfortunate
as the poor little girl.'
Charles felt she did him but jus-
tice ; and squeezed her hand grate-
fully, as she patted his pale cheek.
In a few minutes subsequent, Su-
san's patient was slumbeiing; and
our butterfly, concluding the careful
nurse would remain too quiet to af-
ford him further entainment, set otf,
in quest of new adventures.
In making a sudden turn to the
left, he found himself in a much bu-
sier scene than any he had hitherto
witnessed ; it was a country towa>
i 2
and the bustle of business and cla-
mour of tongues overwhelmed him
, . ^
with surprise and confusion. The
shops were gay, and every counte-
nance looked cheerful ; yet, however
amusing the novel spectacle to our
winged traveller, he beheld no pro-
mise of sustenance ; but one source
met his view, and that was a honey-
suckle, creeping round the door-frame
of a dirty shop, and so discoloured
by dust, that he felt his appetite must
be keen indeed, ere he could venture
on such food. The glowing colours
of some ribbons in a haberdasher's
window 7 attracted him ; but, alas !
they were articles only pleasing to the
eye. The next shop was a pastry
cook's and decorated in a most tenipt^-
ing style : few juvenile observers could
have viewed it without a wish for some
of its contents ; but children and but-
terflies differ in point of taste ; cus-
tards, jellies, and cakes, had no charms
for our butterfly, who flew from house
/ '
to house street to street in search
of the beauties of nature.
A row of small houses, with flower-
gardens in front, presented a more
pleasing prospect ; and he determined
to avail himself of the opportunity.
There was no great variety, but rose-
trees were not wanting, and he quick-
ly selected the most blooming.
At the moment of his choice, a
mischievous boy, who was passing
through the garden with a basket con-
taining eggs and butter, perceived his
manoeuvre, and threw his hat with so
good an aim, that the rose- taster fell
direct to the earth, and was taken
prisoner without a struggle. Held
by the wing, he was carried to a shop
in the town, where the urchin placed
him on the counter, and began to
amuse himself by roughly checking
I 3
his progress, whenever renovated
strength permitted him to crawl. He
continued this employment, in spite
of his master's repeated orders to go
on a second errand ; and at length
roused his employer to give him a
smart rap on the head. Insensible
as he was to the sufferings of the
poor insect in his power, he was per-
fecdy alive to his own ; and quickly
retreated from a second blow, leaving
his victim at liberty, but half dead
from fright and ill-usage.
O o_ ^
The shop-keeper discovering the
cause of the boy's negligence, brush-
ed it hastily from the counter, and
with a force that sent it into the
street. This new shock had nearly
proved our persecuted hero's last; he
just retained strength enough to creep
to the wall, where, sheltered from the
foot of the passing passenger, he
slowly recovered in a decree.; .but his
91
wing had received too much injury for
present flight, and he felt all the hor-
rors of approaching annihilation ; but
fate had other evils in store; and
shortly after, he was raised gently by
a soft careful hand, while a still softer
voice uttered exclamations of real
feeling for his unfortunate situation.
The fair speaker was one of a
large party, forming a young ladies 1
school ; and, with a companion, being
the last of the train, had leisure to
rescue the poor butterfly, exposed to
the danger of being crushed by some
heedless footstep. After a short walk,
they stopped at a large house at the
extremitv of the town ; and our but-
I
terfly was taken into the school-room,
and exhibited to the youthful circle,
by his new mistress, who suffered not
a finger to touch her prize, whose
weakness, she observed, but too plainly
shewed how harshly he. had been used.
<e What will you do with it ?" asked
one.
" Set it at liberty when it is strong
*^ v_^
enough to fly, (returned she ;) 1 am
sorry evening; is so fast advancing;
had it been earlier, I would have at-
tempted to copy its pretty form and
bright colors, ibr I never remember
o '
to have seen so beautiful a butterfly. 11
" V/ell, cannot you put it in a
box until to-morrow morning, (saki
Harriet Jones ;) no harm could hap-
pen to it there, and I really think it
would make a pretty drawing ; and
you are so clever at mixing your co-
lors, and laying them on smoothly, I
*/ CT ^/ '
am sure you would succeed in this.'
" But how cruel it would be, Har-
riet, to confine the poor thing in \L
close box a whole ni^ht, for the chaiKJ
*
or' copying it to-morrow ; and I a;:i
sure a very poor chance it would he,
for I doubt jf it will survive
hours : if any thing can save it, air
and freedom will ; and I should be
sorry to deprive it of the only re-
medy."
" What a fuss about a butterfly,
(cried a new voice :) Jones is right
I would put it into a box ; if it is
past recovery, there can be no cruelty
in confining it.' :
The butterfly owner turned with
quickness to the last speaker, and
addressing her, in a tone of feeling,
said, " When vour father was so se-
s *t
verely wounded in battle, think what
would have been his fate, had those
around him shut him up in a close
room, without the benefit of air, or
necessary assistance ! he must, in
that case, have died. I have heard
him tell papa, how the freshness of
the breeze, and warmth of the sun,
contributed to his recovery : and yet
you, knowing this, would unthinkingly
deprive a living creature of both, be-
cause it cannot tell you how necessary
they are to its existence !' :
Miss Simpson blushed, and looked
a little angry ; for she valued Lucy's
good opinion, and felt that there was
truth in what she said. "But there
was a great difference (she observed,)
in killing a soldier and a butterfly.' 5
" Certainly, (replied Lucy ;) and
I would rather a thousand of the
handsomest were destroyed, than a
single human being ; but, I don't see
whv we should shorten the life of any
** +*
thing God has created ; nor would
you, I am assured, give pain to a
living creature, if you took time to
reflect."
Miss Simpson stammered out a
kind of apology for what she had
said; but, it was evident, she was
more mortified by her friend's rebuke,
than sorry for her own want of hu-
*/
inanity.
Not so the rest of her companions,
who were unanimous in advising Lucy
to give the butterfly its liberty ; add-
ing, "she always acted for the best.'
% To the best of my weak judg-
ment, you mean;" returned the blush-
ing girl.
c o
" 4 What are you saying to Miss
Saville, that occasions her to blush so
much ?' : enquired the governess, ad-
vancing to the gathering circle.
o o o
: Only giving her due praise, ma-
dam ;" answered one, and, of course,
speaking the truth.
" That is a handsome compliment,
my dear, (returned the smiling pre-
ceptress,) and must be as grateful to
my young friend, as it is honorable in
you to acknowledge her merits; but,
may 1 ask, what was the circumstance
which gave rise to your eulogium?"
Here Lucy stepped forward with
her butterfly, (fearful lest her partial
fiierods should mention Miss Simpson
in an unfavorable manner,) and sim-
ply related the cause of her school-
fellows' approbation. " It was but a
simple act of humanity, madam ; and
I really do not feel deserving the
praise bestowed/'
"You could not do other than
\vhat you have done, (replied her go-
verness ;) and with you, I think, it is
not an extraordinary act of humanity ;
but, my love, it is the remembrance of
your usual good-conduct, which this
circumstance brought to recollection,
that excited the commendation of your
friend Martha; and you now feel the
pleasing consequences of being uni-
formly kind and humane. 5!
Lucy blushed, and was silent ; her
companions thought they never saw
her look so pretty, (for she possessed
little of personal beauty.)
Mrs. Bedford seated herself, and
3
the delighted girls gathered round
her.
" Humanity (she continued,) is so
natural a feeling, and so constantly
brings its own reward, it seems strange
O ' S
that an v human being should resist its
' o
call. Few, I believe, are entirely
>
void of it ; but we often confine our
sympathy to the sufferings of the hu-
man species alone : this is certainly
selfish ; for, while we sympathize
with our fellow -creatures, we, in a
great measure, lament the psin we are
liable to experience ourselves. The
brute-creation are entitled to our pity
and forbearance in a particular de-
gree ; for they want intellect to discern
danger, and are even in our power,
and, consequently, at our mercy.
" I never knew a cruel child make
an amiable man or woman. To hurt
a dumb animal, or crush an inoffen-
sive insect, betrays cowardice, as well
* /
K
as cruelty ; because the perpetrator
knows the victim cannot contend
with the ingenuity of man. You
may remember, my dear Miss Simp-
son, the post-boy who beat his horses
so severely, the day you returned to
school : I then felt assured inhuma-
nity was not his only failing, and have
since learned, that, from his repeated
ill-usage of his master's horses, he
was discharged want of character
O '
prevented his entering a new service ;
idleness led him into bad society, and
he is now in the county gaol, for rob-
bing a shop in this town. His friends
are to be pitied, for they are honest
and laborious people ; but you or I
can feel little pity ior him, when we
recollect his savage treatment of the
o
poor fatigued animal, who had tra-
velled so far for his and your conve-
nience.'
Miss Simpson readily assented to
tliis, though she cast her eyes fearfully
around, to observe if her companions
were making comparisons : several
eyes were turned towards her, but
quickly withdrawn, when they noticed
her confusion.
Mrs. Bedford went on: "You
must all notice the particular confi-
dence I repose in Hannah, the ser-
vant who attends YOU while at meals,
'
and when sick. I do not, however,
believe that the v, hole of my young
friends are acquainted with the cir-
cumstances which first gave me a
o
knowledge of her. She is the dausfa-
O O
ter of a poor, but worthy, cottager,
in the neighbouring village, and from
infancy inclined to habits of industry
and docility. That her heart is ten-
der and atiectionate, 1 imagine I need
not add, for many present have expe-
rienced her kind attentions in sick-
ness."-
K
is. ,
- ~ ,,
( . ,,
.<
100
" Yes ! Yes ! (exclaimed several
voices together;) she is indeed a
tender-hearted nurse, as we can
prove. ' :
"Well, my dears, this kindness of
nature extended to every thing living,
that was not hurtful to mankind ; and
few little girls treated dumb-animals
better than Hannah Bennett. She
was nearly eleven years old, when,
coming into the town one morning,
to dispose of her mother's knitting,
she saw some boys engaged in earnest
conversation near a pond : they ap-
peared to be examining something,
and curiosity led her to cross the road
to discover tiie object of their atten-
tion. Her feeling heart recoiled,
o
on perceiving it was a poor frog, whose
death they were planning, with every
species of cruelty ; she pleaded strong-
ly for its release, but they laughed at
her humanity for a frog, and desired
105
more, she quitted the admiring circle ;
and, with more philosophy than might
be expected from so youthful a he-
roine, set forward on her journey.
"She stopped but once more, and
that was to spend the shop-keeper's
halfpenny in liquorice, for her grand-
mother's cough. In passing the church,
she noticed, with pleasure, that only
half an hour had elapsed since she
quitted the boys ; and she Mattered
herself it could not be too late.
" Her hopes somewhat diminished
as she drew near the pond, and saw
no one in sight ; it might be, however,
they were in the adjoining field, and
she hastened to where there was a gap
in the hedge, to ascertain if it were so ;
but, alas ! no bovs were there. She
' */
approached the pond, and with horror
discovered the man <> led remains of a
o
frog, which, she felt convinced, was the
106
poor victim she had wished to pre-
serve. Indignation, pity, and self-
reproach, combined to overwhelm her
with regret ; and she burst into a vio-
lent flood of tears.
u The remainder of her journey
was slowly performed ; she accused
herself of inhumanity, and sincerely
regretted she had been tempted to
stop for the foolish grotto.
" Within a few yards of home, she
overtook one of the hard-hearted
party, and reproached him for his
conduct.
" ' I can't help it, (replied he ;) I
wanted them to wait for your penny,
but they all agreed you were only jok-
ing, and would not be so foolish as
to give a penny for the sake of an
ugly frog. Why, you were not out of
sight when they killed it.'
" Hannah turned from him in dis-
107
gust ; but felt relieved in learning her
dilatoriness had not accelerated the
cruel deed.
" She was now a penny the richer ;
but her wealth gave her no pleasure ;
and, although the showman passed
through the village on the succeeding
CO ~
clay, she experienced not the slightest
inclination to peep at the grotto ; on
the contrary, it only awakened fresh
regret. Her luckless penny was be-
stowed upon a poor blind man, and
her heart felt lighter when it was
gone.
"Hannah's grandfather, who occa-
sionally worked in my garden, told the
story to one of the servants, and, in
course of time, it reached my ears. I
was pleased with the child's charac-
ter, and requested to see her. Still
more was I won bv her modest recital.
w
and ingenuous condemnation of her-
i5
self. I immediately took her into the
103
house, had her instructed in useful
knowledge for her situation in life, and
she has ever since remained with me,
and is, at this time, a pattern of do-
mestic fidelity, and a treasure to my
establishment. I was convinced a heart
so good might be trained to the best
~
principles, and the trial has more
than fulfilled my hope.
" This morning she informed me of
o
a circumstance that shocked, though
it did not surprise, me ; one of the
frog- tormentors was no other than the
unfeeling post-boy we were speaking
of just now."
Her youthful auditors listened with
j
the greatest interest and attention ;
o
and, while they did justice to the me-
rits of Hannah Bennett, expressed
their abhorrence of the post-boy's
character.
" But where is vour beautiful but-
/
terfiv, Miss Saville: exclaimed a
109
little girl, perceiving it was no longer
on the table.
" Gone> I protest, (answered
Lucy, looking round the room :) no
matter ; it must have recovered its
strength wonderfully to have flown
away. I rejoice the poor thing re-
vived ; it was not my intention to
keep it a moment longer than its
weakness required. He was too
proud to be nursed by me; and all
mv good intentions are now vain.' :
t> CT
Our butterfly, however, was not so
far oft' as Lucy imagined: he had
certainly regained his strength in a
^ C3 *>~J
greater degree than might be expected,
but was yet too weak to fly, and had
only crawled to one of the windows,
on whose sill he rested while Mrs.
Bedford related Hannah Bennett's
history.
In a few r minutes subsequent, the
good lady bade her pupils adieu for
L
110
the night : their respectful affection
towards her, bespoke how much she
was beloved : and our flighty traveller
was half inclined to tarry a little
longer with this amiable family ; but
o */
it is the nature of butterflies to rove,
and the ensuing breeze helped to ex-
pand his wings, he made an effort,
and reached a bed of mignionette
growing beneath the window : here
he was joined by a grave-looking
brown-and-yellow insect, whose ex-
ternal appearance was not particu-
larly striking, but there was much cour-
tesy in his manner, and the t\vo
strangers quickly entered into con-
versation.
" My friend, (said the yellow but-
terfly, ) you appear to be in a weak
state ; is it from natural infirmity, or
from recent misfortune?'
"Alas! (returned our hero;) my
weakness arises from the cruelty of
Ill
the human race, and not from any
affliction of nature; I have but just
escaped the most barbarous treat-
ment, and it is only by the most un-
expected kindness of a young lady,
that I am so far recovered as you see
me.'
"Well, (replied the other;) you
see the wisdom and kindness of Pro-
vidence, who sent you a benefactor in
one of the same species as your per-
secutor. I should imagine (he con-
tinued,) that your adventures have
not been of a common description :
butterflies of your colour and form are
highly estimated ; your beauty must
have attracted mankind very often,
and this sort of admiration must have
led you into danger and circumstances
highly interesting: true, you are
young, but I doubt not have wit-
nessed more of the world than many
double your age.' :
L 3
112
" Why, to speak the truth, (an-
swered the flattered beau,) I have
seen a little of life, but my knowledge
is rather confined, for I have moved
in a limited sphere. I am not more
than three miles from my native home;
a garden so humble, you would smile
to see its produce: at the same time,
experience has fatally convinced me,
that neither wealth nor luxury can-
insure happiness. In the course of
this day, I have revelled among the
finest flowers, have sported round
beautiful china vases, and contem-
plated my own form in mirrors of
magnificent structure ; but my en-
joyments were not perfect, constant
and fearful interruptions destroyed
the pleasure within my grasp, and I
have sutiered a martyrdom in escap-
ing the mischievous and inhuman
pranks of children : more than ever,
1 now regret leaving the peaceful spot
113
that gave me birth ; the humble cot-
tage of my first friends was a com-
plete sanctuary, and the natural good-
ness of its youthful inhabitants would
never have subjected me to personal
danger.' 1
~
"It is a common fault (observed
his new acquaintance, ) not to esti-
mate true happiness until it is out of
our reach. I regret one so young
as yourself should find the truth thus
early : I must acknowledge my curi-
osity is not a little raised, to learn the
nature of your perambulations, and,
if the relation be not too painful,
I would solicit to hear them.
" i am afraid you wiil be disap-
pointed, (returned our adventurer;)
but I feel no hesitation in complying."
He then related the history with which
j
our readers are already acquainted,
and received the thanks of his hearer,
114
for what he was pleased to term an
interesting detail.
" Perhaps, (said the narrator,) you
would oblige me with a similar ac-
count ; your knowledge of the world
seem> infinitely superior to mine, and,
from \our age, I should judge you
must have much more to recount.'
" My life has been pretty well
chequered, (answered the stranger,)
but I doubt if its incidents would
afford much entertainment, as you
may perceive my beauty is not very
remarkable. 1 belong to a common
tribe, and of course have never
attracted the notice of your peacock's-
eve folks : at the same time, I am
w '
aware, this want of personal charms
has proved a blessing to me in many
instances. Children are usually at-
tracted by shewy objects: my dull
colours have often passed unheeded,
115
\vhere your brilliant ones would have
invited a chase. To tell you every
event of inv existence, would give
o
\ou verv little satisfaction : my con-
nections are very different from your's ;
I can boast little or ancestry, the
head of our family was of tiie skull
tribe, and you may suppose not an
Adonis; however, I believe he was a
well-meaning butterfly, and less frivo-
lous than we are said to be in general.
I received a hurt in one of my wings,
when in infancy, which has greatly
retarded my flight ever since, and fre-
quently placed me in danger I should
not otherwise have encountered, -
once, indeed, it had liked to have
ended fatally : I had entered a room
on the runner of a honey-suckle
that grew over a trellis, and so occu-
pied by my pleasure that I did not per-
ceive several young ladies drawing at
a, table : when 1 first made the dis-
116
coverv. I was somewhat alarmed, for
/ * X
I was ever afraid of the human race ;
but, as they pursued their study very
quietly, I took courage, and, by de-
grees, ventured to the edge of a glass
in which one of the party occasion-
ally dipped her camel's hair pencil ;
she was painting a group of flowers,
and imitated nature so well, I could
not help watching her delicate fingers
in admiration : while thus employed,
another young artist twitched me from
the glass, exclaiming, ' Louisa ! here
is a young gentleman wishes to sit for
his likeness, cannot you introduce
him in your group of roses?'
" I don't think he would much im-
prove the beauty of my drawings,
(answered she, smiling;) for I will do
him justice, he is the plainest but-
terflv I ever saw. his wings look so
/ ' c?
mean, and his colours so dead.' :
" Aye ; poor thing, (said another,)
117
and I dare say he is almost dead with
fright. 5 '
" I am not hurting him, I assure
~ '
you, (said my keeper) I hold him as
lightly as possible; he would intrude
himself as a beau, and I wish to
mortify his vanity ; but, since Louisa
has not taste enough to admire him,
o
I will send him adrift immediately;
yet, really I do not think it would be
but kind to alter his dress a little,
and, if we cannot make him hand-
some, make him gay at least:" so
saying, she took a dip from every
colour on her palette, and spotted my
dead-looking yellow jacket, (as she
called it;) the process was gently
performed, all the injury I sustained
was mortification: never was a beau
more completely humiliated. Her
companions laughed most heartily :
I endeavoured to get away, and she
instantly released me, but my wings
118
\vere heavy with ray new habiliments ;
and this, added to the natural infir-
mity before mentioned, checked my
motion materially. At length the
paint dried, I felt lighter, and was
able to fly : you may judge I soon
quitted this scene of ridicule, and, to
me, vexation. I heard the laugh at
my expence, long after my departure,
and certainly owed the origin of my
disgrace no good will. In defiance of
the young artist's assertion, I must
assert, I never was vain, or the least
inclined to be a beau ; yet, strange to
say, I felt a kind of Buttering plea-
sure, when I observed the notice my
new dress created among our own
species ; various were the opinions as
to my origin : 'Most extraordinary !'
said one. ' What tribe does he
belong to?' asked a second: 'I
really cannot say, (returned the in-
sect applied to ; ) I never beheld any
119
thing like him before :,' * Depend
upon it, (observed one of your class,)
he is a foreigner ; I have heard there
are some of us of strange shape and
colour in other climates, and I declare
he is not the least like any of our
English butterflies ; I begin to think
he is of French origin, you know
they are reckoned rather whimsical in
their dress, and like variety of colours ;
only that I am ashamed to betray my
ignorance of the language, I would
address him. Flimsy, you must know
a little of it, born as you were in a
garden attached to a French boarding-
school.
" True ; but my accent is so indif-
ferent."
Never mind your accent, a
truce with conceit : go to this singular
stranger, and address him boldly."
"All this conversation I heard as
I rested on a wall-flower, and must
120 ' -
own, I never was better entertained $
I was aware, that too close an inspec-
tion would betray the real quality of
my attire, and therefore determined
to act accordingly.
" Mr. Flimsy flew round and
round my resting place several times,
ere he had courage to open his nego-
ciation ; at length he approached, and
began, c D*ou vcnez vous, J\lon-
sieur T
"I am no French scholar, but I
just knew enough for my purpose :
stretching out my wings, I answered
as I bounced by the astonished ambas-
sador, Bon soir. Monsieur ; bon soir.
" Never did I behold a butterfly so
disconcerted, all his learning fled at
once : slowly he returned to his ex-
pectant friends. I did not wait to
witness their surprise; but, taking a
different direction, was soon out of
1.21
Olir hero laughed heartily at
\vhimsicality of this adventurer, and
enquired how he lost his painted
adornments.
" The worst part of the story is to
come, (replied the other:) after
shewing off in borrowed colours. I
o
entered a curious building, decorated
with various specimens of natural curi-
osities ; among the rest was a glass-
case, containing a most beautiful col-
' O
lection of our kind, golden-wings with
variegated borders, peacock's-eyes of
wonderful brightness. though, I as-
O ' O *
sure you, 1 do not flatter when 1
assert, you are one of the rarest of
your kind."
(Here our butterfly, of course,
made his bow.)
<fc I stood looking at the interesting
spectacle, and not a little amused by
my own grotesque appearance, which
the lid of the case reflected ; when.
raising my eyes, I beheld a thin, bent,
little old gentleman, pale as that lily ;
his features were harsh and disagree-,
able; his dress had once been fine,
but then wore a tarnished and shabby
hue ; his large wig nearly reached to
his nose, on which was placed huge
spectacles ; through them he was
steadily gazing at something in what
I afterwards learned was a micros-
cope.
"So extraordinary a figure I had ne-
ver seen, and I could not help indul-
ging myself with a survey of his per-
son. No doubt you have guessed his
pursuits and his title : he was a r/r-
tuoso ; to us, a dreadful name. When
the trutlr presented itself to my ima-
gination, I instantly determined to re*
treat ; but, alas ! it was too late : he
had already discovered me, but so
cautiously did he set about securing
me, that I Was perfectly unconscious
123
of his purpose, until I felt the excru-
ciating torture of a silver pin through
my lame wing, which fixed me to the
frame of the slass-case. He raised
and wiped his spectacles a dozen times
ere he inspected me, smiling with the
most malignant joy, as he viewed my
painful struggles.
" e Bless me, bless me ! what a
treasure have I found ! all my years of
travel, and vast sums expended, never
procured its equal ! Here is every color
of the rainbow combined ; wonder-
ful phenomenon of nature !
" ' Well, now I would not give my
collection for any other in Europe.
My Lord Moth-head will he quite
astonished when he sees this curious
insect. Really I have a great mind
yes, I think nay, I positively will
offer this to the British Museum ; I
shall make my fortune : no sum would
be too much for such a unique.'
M 2
124
" HP then examined me anew, and
Repeated his admiration in terms so
extravagant, that, had I not been suf-
O ' '
fering the most torturing agony, I must
have laughed at his folly. I verily
believe he thought himself the most
o
fortunate of the human race. Little
did the merry girl, who thus embel-
lished my external appearance, ima-
gine the distress her freak had brought
on me.
"The delighted virtuoso was inter-
rupted, in the height of enthusiasm, by
a person equally remarkable with him-
self, though in a different way. His
figure was immensely tall and thin ;
his face, the longest I remember to
o
have seen ; his coat was evidently a
cast-off one of his master's, (for he
was an assistant, and kind of secre-
tary to the old gentleman,) and, of
course, the habit of a little man could
not suit a very tall one : the sleeves
/ y
125
dki not reach to his wrist by some
inches, and the collar corresponded
with the sleeves ; he carried a small
board, on which were fastened a num-
ber of beetles, he had been polishing.
" ' Come hither, Nathaniel Lap-
wing, (cried the master;) here is a
sight you could never have hoped to
see ; such a butterfly, man ! such a
natural curiosity, that I am almost
wild with joy when I reflect I am the
happy naturalist to whose lot it has
fallen.'
" ' Curious, indeed, (replied Natha-
niel ;) it is of a garb 1 never beheld :
what does your honour mean to do
with it ?'
" ' Aye, my friend, that is the ques-
tion ; I am rather undecided how to
act whether to keep it for my own
rare collection, or present it to the
President of the British Museum.
M 3
126
I might surely ask a handsome price
for it.'
" 'So it should seem, (returned the
other, drily;) but you may remember
they did not receive your offer of the
wonderful cockle-shell to your liking,
*> C2*
and pronounced it a common sheli,
although you declared it was found on
the shores of the Gold Coast ia
Africa."
" i Yes, yes, I know that I remem-
ber that very well, Nathaniel: not
that they doubted my judgment, even
then ; but any-body might be mista-
ken in a cockle-shell, as you h'nd the
managers of the Museum were ; but
I defy all the learned, and the great-
est naturalists in Europe, to disavow
their belief of this insect bein^ a real
o
curiosity. Here are wings, Natha-
niel : blue, red, yellow, stars, spots ;
in short, all that can astonish and
gratify the eye of taste.'
127
11 Nathaniel agreed to this, and
added, the wings were entirely different.
' This (pointing to the pinioned one,)
has but three spots ; the other has four
nay, five.' As he spoke, he touched
the admired spot with the end of his
finger ; when, behold, the chief part
of the fine red came away on his nail !
He stood aghast ; then touched it a
second time, and in so doing removed
the whole of the color. ' Why,
what is this ? (exclaimed he, in dis-
may ;) can it be possible that all these
fine tints are put on !'
" 'Put on ! (repeated the virtuoso,)
no, no, it is impossible ; let me see
let me try.'
" He did so, and the imposition was
too palpable to admit of a doubt.
" His rage now equalled his late ad-
miration, and he vowed vengeance
uuainst me and those who had played
128
the trick ; for he fully believed it was
done to deceive him alone.
" Nathaniel experienced much of
his master's mortification ; but he
possessed more humanity, for he in-
stantly released me, and blew me off
his hand into the garden.
" You may conceive my feelings on
this unexpected deliverance ; I felt
grateful to the man, while I despised
his master; and sincerely prayed I
might never again come within sight
of a virtuoso.
" The cause of my calamity had
nearly disappeared from the rough
experiments of Nathaniel; and I
took care to rub myself well among
the dewy grass, so that the remainder
of my painted finery was soon effaced.
" Not so my poor wing; the in-
jury it had received has never been
entirely remedied, and I am at this
lime, I believe, the worst aeronaut
among our species. This incident,
my friend, is an excellent lesson to the
vain ; and, if ever I had been of the
number, could not fail of making due
impression.'
44 Jt is indeed a lesson, (returned
our peacock-butterfly,) and one that
I feel particularly; for, I must con-
fess, beauty has ever possessed too
much of my consideration, and I
have brought myself into more than
one dilemma, through this same weak
feeling.' 1
" It shows your good sense to ac-
knowledge it, (said his new friend;)
and I only wish all our race were as
sensible of their errors. We are ge-
nerally remarked for conceit, and I
am afraid with truth enough ; but I
trust there are some exceptions.".
*' I envy you your discernment,
(observed the other ;) you see every
130
thing in its proper point of view ; it
is doubly hard you should have suffered
for wearing the semblance of attrac-
o
tion, when you were wise enough to
be happy without the reality.' 1
" Perhaps so ; but I assure you I
am not so faultless as you imagine. If
I have disregarded appearance, I have
thought too much of my appetite ;
or, to speak more plainly, I have been
a complete epicure ; for it was not
the quantity so much as the quality of
the food that I considered, and I have
frequently turned in disgust from
what I now blush to think did not
perfectly satisfy me. Nothing like
experience, my friend : I now enjoy
the humblest food far more than ever
I did the rarities once so coveted. I
shall never forget my first meal on a
potato-blossom ! You smile, and
no doubt think little of my taste ; but
I positively affirm it is a delicious
131
food. Like you, I once held it cheap ;
but, meeting with a butterfly of Irish
extraction, he undeceived me; it cer-
tainly required some persuasion to
induce a trial, on my part, but I was
amply repaid by making it.
" I had one morning over-feasted
myself on a sunflower, and, like epi-
cures of greater magnitude, felt dis-
agreeable consequences, and loathed
all food during that day. The sight
of luxury disgusted me, and I quitted
a rich flower-garden, to wander through
dusty roads and grass-worn fields,
became drowsy, arid indulged myself
with a nap. On awaking, I found
my appetite reviving, and looked sharp
around, to discover if food was at
hand.
"The prospect was barren indeed ;
and 1 was regretting my precipitancy
in quitting the comforts of my morn-
ing's residence, when a stranger-hut-
132
terfly accosted me. There was a
civility and a^reeableness in his man-
o
ner, which invited confidence ; and I
readily returned his salutation. He
told me his parents were natives of
Hibernia, and that he entertained a
great respect for their country, from
his knowledge of their worth ; he did
not account for their coming to this
country, which circumstance I own
surprised me, for I could not conceive
how they travelled, knowing there is a
vast extent of water between Ireland
and England : however, curiosity is
not one of my failings ; consequently,
I did not enquire too minutely into
his family affairs. He had seen much
of the world, and had been by no
means an idle spectator of its scenes.
His observations were remarkably
shrewd, and I really enjoyed his so-
ciety ; the anecdotes he related would
form a very amusing history ; I sug-
133
gested this to him, and advised him
to publish his adventures."
" ' And who would read the adven-
tures of a butterfly? (answered he;)
no, no, mankind have too many tri-
fling pursuits of their own, to be in-
terested in those of a wandering in-
o
sect. Bless you, my friend ; this is
the age for scribbling ; and, if a roarj
but take a walk in his own grounds,
he sits down to write a foreign tour,
O f
performed at home.'
" I smiled at this account of the
human race, for I had never made
such deep observations.
" lie noticed my weakness, and
enquired the cause. I was ashamed
to confess the source of my indispo-
sition, and merely said I had been ill
from indigestion, but was just then
suffering from hunger.
o o
; We will soon get rid of the latter
complaint, ( answered he 3 laughing i)
134
just cross the road with me, I will en-
sure you a treat for an emperor.'
" You may suppose I did not hesi-
tate to accept this invitation : but,
judge my surprise, when I found the
blossom of his country-fruit was to be
the royal food.
/
" He saw my astonishment, but
was not at all offended ; on the con-
trary, I could perceive he enjoyed my
embarrassment ; he flew merrily fro;a
blossom to blossom, humming a lively
air, which he called ' Shamrock for
ever. '
" I was a little mortified by this
indifference, and inclined to scorn the
vulgar feast; but, whether it was
shame, hunger, his good-humour, or
' O ' Cj '
all combined, I know not; certain it
is, I changed my mind, and never was
more satisfied with a meal, before or
since. From that time, I lost mv re-
*t
lish for luxuries, and soon acquired u
3
135
rational and humble appetite. I shall
ever retain a grateful remembrance of
my shamrock friend, (as I now call
him;) for I may thank bin) for many
a pleasant unmolested meal, and bet-
ter health than I enjoyed previous to
our meeting.
"We afterwards journeyed toge-
ther several minutes, during which I
heard several curious particulars re-
specting his family : his father was
remarkable for the beauty of his form
and colours, a distinction that cost
him his life ; he now adorns a cele-
brated nobleman's collection in Lon-
don. His mother met a melancholy
end, likewise : she was skimming the
surface of a bowl oi milk, when her
feet sank in too deep to be extricated,
and the fair Hibernian was drowned.
It is rather a singular circumstance,
that the lady butterfly's grandmother
N 2
136
lost her life in a similar way ; viz. in
a bowl of butter-milk.
" Had you heard the feeling and
. .
interesting manner in which he re -
counted these sad events, you would
have felt the most lively sensibility ;
I really never sympathized with any
one, (out of my own connexion, ) so
sincerely. But I remember, while he
was on the subject, our ears were at-
tacked by the most extraordinary and
alarming sounds. I fluttered every
limb. He listened awhile, and then
jocosely said, it was only the voices of
some Irish labourers returning from
o
work. I was glad to find it was no
worse ; but could not divest myself of
alarm ; any thing so harsh 1 never
heard. He said the language was ex-
pressive ; but to me it was past ex-
pression : I was a stranger even to
the brogue. He understood much
137
\
of what thev said, and followed to
/
hear more.
" I loitered behind, in the hope of
his return, for I felt a great desire to
be better acquainted. But all rny
wishes died away, on perceiving the
old virtuoso, leaning; on Nathaniel,
' O t
turn the corner of the lane, within a
few yards of me. Horror seized my
every nerve, and I exerted my strength
to the utmost to get to a distance, not
daring to look behind, until compelled
to stop, from weakness. I then dis-
covered my enemy at too great a dis-
tance to allow of fear, and began to
lament the separation from my enter-
taining acquaintance, whom, I regret
to say, I never saw more. I some-
times fear he might fall into the hands
of my cruel enemy, for his appear-
ance was certainly much in his favor ;
but it is lo be hoped my fears are un-
founded, and that he is now enjoying
N J
138
ihe benefit of his good qualities and
lively disposition. I am not very
gaily inclined, and do not covet much
society : but, it is pleasant, now and
then, to meet a kindred mind, such as
yours and Shamrock's."
"I feel obliged by the compliment,
(returned our hero;) and must beg
leave to say, the pleasure is chiefly
mine, for, until I met you, I never
knew the sweets of friendship ; reci-
procal communication is certainly one
of the sweetest delights of life."
" You are right, such communica-
tions are a treat : but how surfeiting
7 O
the common-place conversations of
butterflies in general ! I remember,
in an excursion I once made, meeting
' C 1
a troop of our species, on a tour of
pleasure, as they termed it : nothing
would satisfy them, but my joining
the party; 1 did so, reluctantly, want-
ing courage to repress their urgent
5
139
entreaties. They were most of them
of your kind, and certainly made a
dashing appearance. I was rather
surprised my plain person should have
attracted the notice of such gay folks ;
but, I soon discerned that it was my
homely figure that produced the invi-
tation ; two or three fancied themselves
wits, and were determined to divert
them at my expense.
"However mortified I might feel
in making this discovery, I had pru-
dence enough to conceal my feelings.
One enquired if shabby brown and
dingy yellow were the most fashionable
colors ; to which another replied,
there had certainly been an attempt
to make them so, but it had failed,
and the offended class were about to
emigrate to some newly-discovered
island, where the sun never shined,,
and where the dimness of their charms
would not be so easily discerned.
140
" This specimen of butterfly-wit
greatly charmed the party, who, one
and all, joined in the laugh, begging
I would not control my merriment,
out of good- breed ing.
" To this I answered, I could not
enter into the joke, because I did not
believe the report ; I was myself one
of the tribe described, and, so far
from being fashionists, we always
laughed at the ridiculous figure other
o ~
classes made, in endeavouring to ape
mankind.
" ' What classes do you mean?'
(asked a pert beau.)
" ' More than one, (replied I;)
but, I leave it to your own conscience,
whether yours be included in the
number.'
4< He looked a little abashed, and,
indeed, they all seemed the graver for
my retort; but, vanity is not easily
quelled, though it may be often checked,
u \Ve entered a beautiful garden,"
belonging to a lady of high rank, who,
with some friends, was enjoying the
fragrance of the various gifts of
Flora.
" Some of our youthful companions
were desirous of showing off on this
occas^i ; and, quitting the party, ad-
vanced towards the great folks, before
whom they $ew, to and fro, in all the
pride of conscious beauty.
u Their gratification, however, was
O ' '
short ; the charms they prized drew
the attention they desired, but the re-
sult was not of so pleasing a nature.
Two young gentlemen commenced a
chace after our stragglers ; they were
not novices at the game, for they soon
caught and destroyed four of the
fairest.
" You may imagine the effect such
a scene caused in the survivor?, who
quickly left the hateful place, in d.s-
142
tress of mind that erased all my for-
mer contempt ; but, I had no desire
to continue the association, and took
the first opportunity of changing my
quarters.
" Except in this one adventure, I
never mixed with butterflies of rank ;
nor can I say, a desire for high life
was the consequence. Observe, I
do not wish to treat the great with
disrespect ; but, I own, I look for
something more than ancestry, where
I wish to esteem. v
"And you are right, my friend, (re-
plied our hero ;) for myself, I knew not
the value of aw own descent until I
%/
heard the remarks of some strangers
I met this morning. Nor can I say
the knowledge of it has increased my
happiness, for it created a vanity I
never should have felt, but for the
injudicious admiration. I cannot ex-
press how much I am bettered by
143
your good sense and just observa-
tions. O ! how I wish we might
pass the remainder of life together, I
really feel we were born for friends."
" I see no possible objection to your
wishes, (said the yellow butterfly, ) nay,
I am assured we shall both be hap-
pier by joining society ; and, while we
enjoy ourselves, be enabled to assist
the young and giddy, by warning
them of evils we have escaped, and
teaching them how to profit by our
example.'
" Agreed, (returned the other ;)
from this time let one common faie
unite us, and let our interests and
pursuits be the same.' :
Each flapped his wing three times
in token of agreement, and the matter
was settled.
Night now drew on apace ; and ; as
our butterflies were not of that species
travel in darkness, they retiree*
/
to rest : the tulip afforded a comforta-
ble shelter, where they enjoyed a re-
pose kings might have envied.
Our friends were awakened early
the ensuing morning, by the clamour
of many tongues, the noise of which
rather alarmed them, but the subject
of these memoirs soon discovered the
truth ; and, in the busy group ap-
proaching, recognized Mrs. Bedford's
pupils : he imparted this to his com-
panion, and they both emerged from
their couch, to observe the pursuits
of the juvenile party; whose charac-
ters were high in the estimation of
each, from the event of the preceding
evening. As it will be necessary to
distinguish the two butterflies (thus
united) from one another, we shall
call our own hero, by the name the
" 7 cllo \v-and- brown one bestowed
145
him, " friend Peacock/" from the pe-
culiar beauty of his coat, as before ob-
served.
Peacock pointed out to his friend
the amiable Miss Saville and her young
advocate. They were together, and
examining every new blown flower
with the greatest interest. " O ! Lucy,
(exclaimed the young one,) look at
this beautiful moss-rose, how it is
broken: who can have done it?"
"1 hope no one intentionally, (an-
swered Lucy,) for we all admired it
so much yesterday, I should think it
impossible any lady would destroy
what they so lately prized. All in a
breath denied having injured the
flower, but Miss Saville's discernment
induced her to suspect the sincerity of
one, and she proposed asking each
separately ; the supposed aggressor
looked a little confused, but, assuming
courage as her turn drew near, bold-
o
146
ly denied the action. Miss Saville
fixed her eyes on the countenance of
the young Julia, and begged her to
reflect a little, ere she answered in
the negative.
"Why so, Miss? (returned the other
pertly. ) I can give no other answer,
and I think it is very spiteful of you,
to fix it on me.
" No 7 not spiteful (cried several
voices) . Lucy is never spiteful.
" I hope not, (said Miss Saville,
gently.) Nor do I think Julia would
say so, if she was not angry with me.
However, as I have certainly raised
' */
suspicion against her, I feel in honour
bound to give my reason for so doing.
Well, then ; yesterday, when we were
quitting the garden, Julia wished to
pick a nosegay ; and, among other
tiouers, selected a rose from this tree,
Now,. we all know it is a favourite of
dear Mrs, 13ed ford's, and I therefore
147
objected to her taking one, observing
-' C3 ' n
there were plenty of other roses to
suit her purpose. She was offended
with my interference, and said, if she
must not have the moss-rose, she
would have none. She swung her
bonnet in anger as we left the spot,
and, when I cautioned her as to the
mischief she mia;ht do, she reoeated
O ' , i
the action with more violence, and
bade me trouble my head with my
own affairs, for the rose-tree was not
mine. At that moment the dinner-
bell rancr a second time, and, as we
o '
were the two last in the garden, I
was obliged to hurry in-cloors without
CD J
ascertaining if she had really hurt
any of the flowers. We walked into
town in the evening; therefore we
must be certain no one has been here
in the mean time.' :
The fact spoke for itself; and, if a
doubt had remained, the sullen and
148
guilty countenance of the mischie-
vous girl told sufficient, to remove it.
Censure was unanimous, but the kind-
hearted Lucy, unwilling to mortify
her more than was necessary, ex-
pressed her belief, that she was not
aware of the consequences, when she
gave way to her temper the day
before.
Julia caught at this leniency, and
answered, pertly, " To be sure she
was not."
" I would not give much for your
regret, (said the little Mary,) if you
speak in that sharp way.' 1
This was a new offence to the pet-
tish girl, and she withdrew from the
circle in great anger. Miss Saville
followed, and tried to soften her; but
she would not listen to any advice,
and fixed herself against the trunk
o
of a walnut-tree, in obstinate inac-
tivity. The spot was near the tulip
149
bed, so that our butterflies had full
opportunity of observing her con-
duct. The rest of her companions
had joined in play at a distance, and
thither the winged friends would wil-
lingly have followed to view their
innocent sports, but they dreaded ex-
posing themselves while Julia was in
sight : her disposition had sufficiently
evinced her capability of hurting
them, if in her power; and they,
therefore, carefully avoided the dan-
ger, by keeping close in their hiding-
place, where they had full opportu-
nity of watching her actions.
Children are not always sensible
*/
of the disgust they create, when under
the influence of malignant passions.
Here was a fine and clever little girl,
exciting the contempt of two insigni-
ficant butterflies, instead of sharing
the amusements and regards of hey
o 3
uo
school-fellows : her feet, which should
have been employed in a healthful
race, were shuffling on the gravel,
to the detriment of a pair of new kid
shoes, while her lingers were pluck-
ing and destroying every leaf within
her reach; many times her eye turned
to the rose-t/ee, but fears prevented
revenge.
The tulip prisoners longed for her
departure, and sincerely rejoiced when
the breakfast-bell summoned the chii-
dren to their first meal : at this mo-
ment, Julia made a snatch at some-
thing, and kept it fast in her hands ;
Miss Simpson observed her as they
all returned down the great avenue,
and exclaimed, she hoped Julia had
not spoiled another rose.
She made no answer, but placed
her hand behind her.
" O! she has, for certain, (cried
Mary ;) I wonder she is not ashamed
to go in-doors, and meet my govern^
ness. '
"Is this the rose?' said Julia,
bringing forward and opening her
hand
All pressed forward to look. It
was not a flower, but a butterfly
crushed to death. A look of pity
passed from one to another, and
they retreated from the cruel girl as
though her company were conta-
gious.
" Shame on yon, unfeeling child !
(said Miss Saville,) be assured your
conduct will meet punishment, nor
shall I endeavour to screen you, for
you well merit it." Saying this, she
withdrew, and the young criminal
slowly followed, despised and shun-
ned by all.
The sympathising breasts of our
two friends longed to aflord assist-
152
ance to their poor fellow-creature, if
indeed, he still existed ; and, as soon
as the children were out of sight,
O '
they repaired to the spot ; but, alas !
their humanity was unavailing, life
was extinct.
As they bent over him with sad
ti
regret, a sudden exclamation from
his companion startled the Peacock,
and he enquired the cause.
"Behold! (cried the other,)
behold ! in this unhappy victim of
human passions, my valued friend
Shamrock. 5
< c Is it possible ?'
" But too true, indeed. I per-
ceived the likeness the first moment
1 looked at the bod}', and a close in?
spection places the fact beyond doubt.
How I lament we did not meet before
he fell into the hands of that cruel
girl, how much entertainment and
instruction have we not missed by hi>,
unexpected demise ? This is another
proof of the uncertainty of butterfly
happiness; I tremble, my dear Peacock,
lest our separation be near at hand,
and perhaps from a similar fate.' :
" Say not so, (returned the other,)
you make me shudder at the bare
idea of such a thing : I believe I never
possessed great fortitude, and am
assured, should such a fate be in
store for one, and I the survivor, I
should prove a bad philosopher. J:
" Pray, gentlemen, (said a brisk
young butterfly, whose white wings
seemed to float in the air,) have you
met, in the course of your morning
rambles, one of us with scarlet wings,
spotted here and there in a curious
manner, though not so handsome as
that gentleman's ?" meaning our hero.
Now, it may be remembered, Pea-
cock had no partiality for ladies of
154
the white robe ; he remembered the
flirtation of one, and doubted the
sincerity of this ; his vanity was not
so alert as heretofore, and the com-
pliment to his beauty produced no
gratification.
His sage friend took upon himself
to answer, seeing his reluctance to
* o
notice the lady. "I cannot say, ma-
dam, that \ve have noticed a butterfly
answering your description. ' :
" Dear me ! it is very strange, (re-
turned she, ) he is a particular friend
of mine, and promised to meet me
this morning to conduct me to a gar-
den not very far from this, where I
am to join a large party at a sweet-
pea feast. I am but a novice in
travelling, and so fearful of chil-
dren that I tremble at the sight of
one, and just now I stumbled on
half a hundred in these very grounds;
I really thought I should have fainted j
however, I escaped unperceived by
any of them.'
' I am happy to say, (answered
our Peacock,) that your fears were
groundless; for, excepting one child,
the rest were too amiable to hurt a
worm.'
' 1 wish it were more often the case,
(observed the stranger.) for really I
have heard terrible accounts of them. 5 '
e Ah ! my dear Lily, (cried a scar-
let-winged butterfly, approaching the
trio,) I have been looking for you
- ^^ *
these live minutes past.'
'And I have been waiting for you,
(replied she,) it is past the time ap-
pointed ; I began to fancy some mis-
hap had befallen you, or that you
had changed the route, and was en-
quiring of the good strangers if they
had seen one of your kind."
Well, I am here at last, and
ready to attend you to our party.
who anxiously look for your pre-
sence. Perchance these gentlemen
will be gracious enough to join us,
and share the delights of a pea-feast ;
I will ensure them plenty, and a
welcome.' 1
Our friends at first refused, but
Scarlet was pressing, and Lily was
engaging, so between both they
gained their point; and, after a plea-
sant flight, they descended to a bed
of sweet-peas, whose beautiful tints
and delightful fragrance might have
tempted any butterfly in the universe ;
it may be, that Brown-and-yellow ex-
perienced a slight return of former
epicurisms, for his spirits exhilirated
as he viewed the luxurious scene.
They were received with every
mark of respect by the gay party as-
sembled. Our hero's rank and beauty
entitled him to attention ; and, not-
withstanding the inferiority of his
157
companion's appearance, they ima-
gined he must he somebody, by shar-
ing his friendship, and they perceived
he treated Brown-and-yellow with
regard and deference.
Good humour was the order of the
day. they met for enjoyment, and
all appeared satisfied.
Lily was a great favourite with her
friends, and could lead them to what
she liked : she proposed a short ex-
cursion after the repast, which was
readily agreed to, and she spread her
white wings as guide: they followed,
and entered a delightful green-house;
it was the first our hero had ever
seen internally, and excited his warm-
est admiration : the warbling of birds
in an adjoining aviary added to his
pleasure, and he proposed to his friend
their taking up their residence in the
charming place.
p
358
" I admire its beauties equally
with yourself, (answered he,) but
should be sorry lo decide on your
plan : no, no, it is too near the habi-
tation of man, I should never feel
secure a moment ; it is very well to
visit such a place occasionally, but I
have no desire to make it my home."
" You are right, no doubt, (re-
turned Peacock ;) I spoke at random ;
you always reflect ere you utter 3^our
sentiments'
Lily now advanced, and informed
them that she had discovered a
most elegant apartment at the extre-
mity of the green-house, decorated
with shrubs, orange -trees, and, in
short, every thing they could fancy as
beautiful; and added, there were two
ladies in the room, one shewing the
other some curious stuffed birds in
glass cases.
15$
" I dont like the last part of your
account, (said Brown -and-yellow ;) I
ieai she is a virtuoso.' 1
" What ! a female virtuoso ?'
" Yes, Miss Lily; no uncommon
thing, I assure you. Her fancy may
not stop at birds ; and I should re-
gret to see any of my fair companions
fall a sacrifice to her good taste and
discernment.'
" But she is such a sweet-looking;
C7
;, her dress is so elegant, and
every thing looks so enticing around
her"
That you would have us fall
into the snare, to admire the bait that
caught us. I speak disinterestedly, for
my class is not one to claim her notice ;
it is more than probable I am safe,
but ye young and lovely would for
certain meet danger, and I dare not
let my dear friend encounter the c
\\hilc I can possibly prevent it,"
F 2
160
Several agreed with the last speaker,
but more with Lily, who whispered
our hero, that his friend was jealous
of their superior charms, and, because
he could not shew himself off to ad-
vantage, wished to keep them all in
the back-ground.
Our butterfly had too much sense to
attribute such motives to his friends ;
but example is a dangerous thing ; he
could not divest himself of Lily's
wish; and, at length, openly espoused
the same side of the question. It
was at last decided, that six of the
party should visit the charming apart-
ment ; and, after satisfying their cu-
riosity, return, and despatch the others
on the same errand.
Lily had gained an influence over
our peacock, of which he was not
conscious; and, although it was ar-
ranged he should not be one of the
first party, she soon persuaded him to
id i
-(/ ; and, against the advice of
lirown-and-yellow, he actually set
forth on the hazardous expedition.
Mis friend,, however, followed at a dis-
tance, in the hope that, should he
perceive danger approaching, he might
Induce his volatile favourite to return.
Lily had not said too much of the
scene they were to witness ; the apart-
ment \vas indeed elegant, and the la-
dies did honor to the apartment : they
"were yet looking at the birds.
" Weil, (said one of the fair exa-
miners, ) I am infinitely obliged to you
for this exhibition ; I have seen many
birds preserved in a similar way, but
never such beautiful ones;- -it is
really quite a treat. Have you any
insects, or shells and fossils?
" Some few of the latter; but, I
think there is much cruelty in collect-
ing insects, as, 1 know, they are ge-
nerally killed for the purpose ; and,
r 3
162
for this reason, I never wish them to
adorn mv cabinet."
/
I told you there was no danger,
(whispered Lily;) did you ever hear
sweeter tones of humanity ?"
'* You are very tender-hearted,
(said the other lady, smiling ;) it really
never entered my head ; I have been
so accustomed to view them in all
stages, and I certainly do admire
them butterflies for instance."
Here our travellers halted, and
listened eagerly for the remainder of
her speech.
She continued. " Butterflies, for
instance ; what can be more beauti-
ful ? My father has some in his col-
lection, that are quite wonderful."
'* I know he has, but can never re-
concile myself to such things. I de-
clare, when I go to Mr. Siiakehead's
Museum, I never enjoy the scene, for
reflecting on the means he 1ms adopted
165
to procure many of the harmless crea-
tures before me.'
Charmed as our party were with
the sentiments of the last speaker,
they did not feel quite at ease in the
presence of her companion. "Per-
haps, (said one,) she maybe in the
habit of collecting insects, and killing
them, for her father. I am frightened
out of my wits lest she should disco-
ver us."
"Never fear, (answered Lily;)
her friend will protect us ; in my
mind, we are safer here than any
where. I have a great desire to see
these birds, and shall venture to the
table, assured our fair advocate will
not suffer harm to befal me.' :
It was in vain the rest opposed this
bold intention ; Lily was a positive
butterfly, and made her way to the
table, as she said.
A sudden and violent storm of thun-
164
der and rain startled the two
who quitted their employment. The-,
tender-hearted one let the case fall
suddenly from her hands ; the fate of
Lily was decided its weight crushed
her to atoms, as she was creeping on
the table beneath. The act was per-
fectly unintentional, and the perpetra-
tor remained ignorant of the death
o
she had occasioned.
Not so the horror-struck party of
her own species, who had gathered in
a circle to witness her Quixotism, and,
consequently, all beheld her melan-
choly end.
Our hero felt particularly affected,
and hastened from the lately-admired
spot as fast as possible. He felt as-
hamed, on perceiving Brown-and-yel-
low closely watching him. "You know
all that has passed, of course ;" (said
he, )
" I do ; indeed, (returned his
165
friend ;) and, much as I lament the
fate of our pretty Lily, am thankful
for your escape : this is no place for
us ; let us return to the green-house,
thank the good folk for their hospita-
litv, and again seek the regions of air :
' ' O O
freedom is every thing to us, who are
Nature's children ; in future, we will
content ourselves with her simple pro-
duce, enjoy it in its natural state, and
not hazard this constant peril, by seek-
ing more refined food. '
Peacock had nothing to offer in
contradiction to these truths, and rea-
dily agreed to quit the green-house, as
soon as the forms of civility were over.
Their intention was, no doubt, pru-
dent ; but the plan was far more easily
concerted than executed ; for, during
their absence, the windows of the
green-house -had been closed by the
careful gardener, when the storm com-
menced ; and, as it yet continued, the
whole party were detained prisoners*
166
There did not appear much danger
m the situation, but Lily's catastrophe
had a material effect on their spirits,
and all seemed anxious to be off.
It should seem that patience is a
desirable quality, even in a butterfly ;
for, in the present case, no other re-
medy was at hand.
While flying from shrub to shrub,
anxiously awaiting the re-opening of
the windows, Peacock discovered an
opening in one of the sashes, suffi-
ciently wide to allow of escape.
With joy he communicated the same,
but, to his great surprise, many pre-
ferred remaining until the storm was
over. A few were wiser ; and, with
Brown-and-yellow, availed them-
selves of what they deemed good-
fortune.
On regaining their liberty, our
friends took a grateful leave of their
new acquaintance, and directed their
flight towards the garden of Mrs. Bed-
1
167
ford, where they hoped to enjoy u
quiet repose ; for, they flattered them-
selves, Miss Julia would be very cau-
tious in showing her ill-temper hi
future. Unfortunately, they had not
a just idea of the distance, and sup-
posed themselves near their former
residence, when they were wide from
it.
Peacock observed a garden-wall,
O f
which looked very like Mrs. Bedford's,
and they quickly descended on the other
side. It was not the spot expected,
but there was a similarity in the laying-
out the flower-beds, and they conclu-
ded it was a different part of the same
grounds ; and they doubted not, by
perseverance, arriving at the tulip-
bed.
The farther they went, however,
the more they found themselves
/
astray ; and, despairing of gaining the
desired haven, they were beginning to
consider if it were wise to take up
their abode in this new place, when
a hubbub of many loud voices made
them start with surprise ; and, in a few
seconds, the green lawn before them
\vas covered by a number of boys,
buoyant with youth and spirits. They
now no longer doubted their mistake,
and, guessing that a boy's seminary
was no place of security for butter-
flies, they again took their departure
as speedily as possible.
Wishing to avoid the public road,
they turned into a long narrow lane,
shaded by trees, afford ing a delight-
ful shelter, and leaving them at liberty
to enjoy a little private conversation.
" How much I regret (said Brown-
wings,) our foolish acceptation of the
strangers' invitation : we have lost our
quiet and pleasant home, have suffered
much unnecessary anxiety, and wit-
nessed the melancholy death of a
169
lovely female, who, perhaps, in her
wish to entertain us, hastened her own
fate."
" Alas ! I fear so, (returned the
other ;) but my share of hlame is far
greater than yours; for, had I resisted
poor Lily's proposal, she might have
desisted, in compliment to us, as
strangers. ' :
" Well, it is now too late to repair
the error, (observed Brown- wings ;)
we must he more cautious in time to
come : I only wish we could find our
old haunt; I felt attached to it, and
am persuaded the amiable pupils of
Mrs. Bedford would never have mo-
lested our sports. But see, what have
we here ? look through this gap, there
is a fine house, and spacious grounds;
what a beautiful border of flowers
round that lawn, it is quite tempting !
But I fear it is too public ; we will
just take a survey of the place, and
170
pursue our journey, for retirement is
now our first and most desirable ob-
ject."
"True, (answered Peacock;) but
methinks we could meet no harm in
taking a nearer view of this fair
scene. 1
His friend thought so too, and they
accordingly went through the opening,
over a low paling, and approached
the enticing flower-border. The
o
house, at some distance, was a mag-
nificent ancient structure, and, they
guessed, belonged to some nobleman
of high rank ; a fine park lay to the
right ; in short, the whole formed a
spacious demesne, which they admired
some time, unmolested. At length,
they heard approaching steps, and
shortly beheld a female servant with
a young child ; it was just learning to
walk, and looked so pretty and inno-
cent ; that our butterflies rested on a
171
briar, to watch its interesting motion.
The nurse was not one of those care-
ful attendants who may be trusted with
^
their charge out of sight of the pa-
rent ; in fact, she was any thing but
Hannah Bennett.
Holding the babe carelessly by the
arm, she let it slip ; and the helpless
little creature fell on its face on the
gravel walk. As may be supposed,
loud cries followed the blow, and Mrs,
Nurse used all her powers of coaxing,
to quiet the young lord, (as she called
him ;) but, he was not so easily paci-
lied, and the woman appeared frigh-
tened lest his shrieks should reach the
house. She picked flower after flower,
which he threw from him indignantly.
Nurse was more alarmed. At length,
her eye caught the two spectators of
the scene, when, forgetting every thing
but her young master's cries, she
grasped Brown-and-yellovv, who was
Q, 2
172
nearer than our hero ; and, holding
him up by the wing, cried " See,
see, my sweet darling, here is a pretty
creature, a nice fine butterfly, all for
my own child : shall nurse beat the
naughty thing, for making dear Lord
Charles fall, and hurt his pretty face ?"
Lord Charles now held his tongue
for a moment, and stretched out his
chubby hands for the naughty butter-
fly; but, no sooner was it in his
power, than the unconscious babe
tore the unfortunate insect into a
dozen pieces.
Gentle readers, imagine the feelings
of our hero while beholdin^ the nor-
o
rible transaction ! Grief, indignation,
despair, each took possession of his
breast; in a paroxysm of wretchedness,
he flew over the bush, and lighted at
the feet of the unfeeling woman, in the
17 '
hope she would seize him, as a second
sacrifice; but, whether she overlooked
173
him, or the sound of voices now in-
duced her flight, we know not : but,
Cj ' '
suddenly snatching up the child, she
hurried clown a serpentine walk, and
soon disappeared.
Sincere and bitter were the lamen-
tations our solitary wanderer poured
forth over the mangled relics of his
o
disinterested friend. : Never, never
more, (cried he,) shall I meet with
such a true friend ! in thee I have
lost all that made life desirable ! no
longer will I shun the haunts of man ;
o
I will present myself to his view at all
times, and seek the death I have hi-
therto avoided. Accident I may es-
cape, but the cruelty of human na-
ture is certain.' 1
We are all apt to forget past good,
when evil presents itself: just so with
our broken-hearted butterfly, in his
grief for this heavy loss ; he forgot
the humanity of the gentle Phebe and
174
Ned ; the kindness of Lucy Saville ;
and the feeling of Lily's unconscious
destroyer. It must be allowed, his
conduct v. as censurable ; but, if \ve
feel that intellectual beings are capa-
ble of the same, we may assuredly be
lenient to a despairing insect.
Scarcely knowing how he flew, he
approached the house, and entered
the first open window. He saw a
male and female, but he did not, as
heretofore, shun them ; the gentleman
was reading, and the lady lolling on a
sofa, half asleep. A moment's view
of the latter, discovered to him the
fair virtuoso who "acknowledged her
admiration of dead butterflies to her
friend, in the green-house apartment
A moment before, he had desired
death; now, he shrank from the
chance of his wish being realized ; yet,
like the moth and the candle, he ho-
vered round the flame, wanting power
175
or resolution to escape. The indo-
lence of the lady prevented her rising
to look about her ; but his terror was
not abated by her inactivity, for ke
guessed the sour- countenanced gen-
tleman reading was no other than her
father, whose collection she had so
praised.
In truth, he was right : the noble
lord was no other than the celebrated
Earl of Moth-head, whom, our rea-
ders may remember, was mentioned
by the old virtuoso to Nathaniel Lap-
wing.
Suddenly laying down the book, he
exclaimed " Lady Amelia ! secure
at beautiful butterfly at your left
elbow ; he is worth preserving.'
Her ladyship endeavoured to do
as desired, but our nimble hero avoid-
ed her slender fingers, and flew to the
opposite side of the room.
The earl jumped up, his daughter
176
did the same, and a complete ehace
ensued ; during which, the persecuted
insect received many severe contu-
sions, though eventually he escaped
the snare, and made his way into the
grounds, by another window. But
freedom was all he gained ; his suffer-
ings were acute, and strength seemed
O ' w
fast decaying. With much difficulty,
he reached the opposite side of the
lawn ; and, crawling up the low walk,
descended into the lane from which he
first entered.
How unlike his entrace was the
departure ! Alone, in pain of mind
as well as body, it seemed of little
/ '
consequence where he went next ; but
all sense left him was horror of the
earl, and his grand estate ; and, he
fancied, if he could once lose sight of
it, he should die content. A long
time elapsed before he did so, for lite
was fast vrasth':'
177
i
Who shall speak his joy, when,
turning the corner of the green lane,
he beheld the humble cottage, the
O '
home of his earliest favourites ? Yes,
the much-regretted spot was now be-
fore him his native jasmine; source
of his happiest meals ! The sight
renovated his drooping spirits : he
flew to the open casement, saw the
rosy features of Phebe, resting on
her brother's shoulder, crept to the
nearest branch of jasmine, dropped
on one of its fairest blossoms, and
DIED !
SO E'XDS THE RAMBLES OF A
BUTTERFLY.
l>y W. Darton, jun. IJolborn-hili, London,
CHILDREN'S BOOKS,
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